


Why Couldn't I Say No?

by Coldgrin



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Additional Tags to Come, Bit of sex scenes, Blood Magic, F/F, F/M, I have no idea what I'm doing, I'm shit at writing them though, M/M, Minor Iron Bull Bashing (?), Minor The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Modern Character in Thedas, Vivienne (Dragon Age) is a Bitch, non-binary original character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:22:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coldgrin/pseuds/Coldgrin
Summary: After a ritual gone awry, our lovely protagonist (?) ends up falling from the Fade, right into the lap of the Inquisition. Join them as they enter its ranks and do what they can to get by in a world they don't really know much of apart from the many hours of gameplay. I've written this for fun when I really should be studying for my classes and the National Board Exam.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. Well Shit

**Author's Note:**

> Coldgrin here, I have a lot more of this story already written out. If enough of you really want more, I can post it. I'll be adding to it regardless considering there isn't much else to do other than read my textbooks.

Solas’ p.o.v

In the heart of the Exalted Plains, we fought against the demons pouring out from a rift. They would make slight craters in the ground as they landed, ready to attack the life force that was our group. Inquisitor Ellana Lavellan had insisted on closing a few rifts before going to seek the alliance of the Dalish clan in the area. Once the rift had depleted its energy, it was finally ready to close. She reaches the anchor out to the anomaly and it snaps shut in a flash of light, but not before a dark shape fell from it, skidding across the ground. Dorian, the Inquisitor and I ready our staves while Iron Bull pulls out his hammer. There’s a snarl of anger and a grunt of pain as the dust clears, revealing a sentient figure. They were crouched and glaring at us with odd silver eyes that darkened to black further away from the pupil. The facial structure was a dead giveaway to an elf, though whether they were male or female was yet unknown. The newly identified elf stood slowly, eyes not blinking for a second, nor did they leave our group. They were dressed in blend of mithril and leather armor that seemed to swallow the light around it, a hooded cloak masking the shine of the mithril chains, though it was tattered with ragged edges as it reached the back of their knees.

“Is this a demon or not boss?” asked Iron Bull, grip tightening on his weapon. The Inquisitor’s grip on her staff loosened slightly “I’m not sure Bull. What do you think Solas?”

I roll my eyes internally, honestly a demon would have attacked us by now as a humanoid form such as this would indicate some mass of power “I do not believe they are. Any demon that could manifest in such a solid, humanoid form would have immense power and likely would have tried to attack us by now, not listen to us talk of its nature”.

Dorian, being ever the diplomat, was the first to put his staff away and approach this new face “I’m sorry darling, quite rude of us to speak of you while you’re standing there. My name is Dorian of House Pavus”.

Their eyebrow raises “Indeed, but I suppose I’ll forgive you just this once considering my entrance”. Upon being met with pleasantries, Lavellan was quick to join in the conversation “I’m Inquisitor Lavellan, how have you managed to get yourself in and out of the Fade?”

For a moment, I see their lip twitch as if it wanted to snarl. But the expression was quick to smooth out to a neutral expression. “I went for a dive, hence my crash landing considering I didn’t know solid ground would be on the other side. A minor miscalculation on my part”.

Bull finally put his weapon away “You mages, always getting mixed in with this Fade shit”. They shrug, not dismissing his claim that they were a mage, though it was clear to me that they were not. All across their thighs, there were small hilts of knives sunk into leather sheaths with the hilt of a dagger just barely visible on the small of their back and a sword on their left hip.

Dorian continued his faux flirting with this stranger “Do you happen to know of the Dalish clans in the area? We’re trying to gain their allegiance, but our dear Inquisitor is from the city and hasn’t a clue as to how to deal with them”.

They roll their eyes “I know of them yes, I’m a clanless nobody so my presence won’t garner you any favors. These Dalish are no different from other allies you would seek. Do some favors for them, say the right things and they’ll be willing to help you”.

The Inquisitor puts a hand to her chin in thought “Would you be willing to speak with them on our behalf?”

They raise an eyebrow “You want me, a complete stranger that’s fallen from a rift, to conduct diplomatic business with the Dalish? What’s in it for me if I agree to do you this favor?”

The Inquisitor narrows her eyes “I had hoped you would have done this as a courtesy to the Inquisition”.

The stranger scoffs “You want me to believe that this Inquisition of yours is so incompetent that it needs the help of a singular Dalish clan to defeat an abomination such as Corypheus?”

Bull hid his laughter into a cough rather well as the Inquisitor fumed and looked ready to try and fight this stranger. I put the end of my staff out to stop her and turned to address the elf “You said you were clanless yes? I’m sure the Inquisition would be willing to provide a place of lodging for you in return for gaining the Dalish clan here as our ally”.

Lavellan scowls but doesn’t deny that we would do this for them. “Sounds reasonable enough, provided I keep any reward the Dalish give out for completing the task to garner their favor”. Reluctantly, the Inquisitor holds out her hand “We accept your terms”. The stranger takes hold of her forearm with a slight smirk “Then we have an accord. I believe they are camped not too far from here”. Lavellan makes a gesture her them to lead the way.

We move at a sedate pace and reach the Dalish camp in roughly an hour’s time. Our new diplomat approaches an elder dressed to be the keeper. They begin speaking in Dalish, although the stranger had the accent that reminded me too much of the ancient dialect. “ _I’m here with the Inquisition, who would like to lend aid to your clan_ ”.

The keeper is gruff in his reply “ _We shall see if you are genuine. You’ve come at a time when our clan could use the help of an outsider. The grounds of Vair Bellanaris are infested with angry spirits from the beyond. Deal with them and we’ll see if the clan has other tasks for this Inquisition_ ”.

The diplomat nods and gestures for the group to follow them out of the camp. Once we are out of ear shot, Dorian is the first to break the silence “And what exactly have you signed us up to do my dear?”

They gesture their head forward in the direction we’re heading “The place of their dead is overrun with angered spirits, demons as you would call them. We kill them and we gain some favor in the clan. Building rapport if you will”.

After fifteen minutes of walking through the uneven terrain, we reached the graveyard for the Dalish. It was indeed infested with shades. It took little time for the group of us to defeat them and return to the keeper. Once again, the stranger takes the lead and speaks “ _The Vair Bellanaris is cleansed._ ”

The keeper nods, expression knowing “ _I am aware. I sent one of my hunters to watch you. You did nothing more than banish the spirits. Speak to the others of my clan as they may have use for the Inquisition’s aid_ ”.

They nodded and flitted about the camp, speaking to its various members just so in order to gain their approval as well as any favors they may be seeking. They survey the group for a moment “Which among you would be capable of gathering ten bundles of elfroot and five bushels of spindleweed?”

No one else stepped forward, which only left me to do so. “That’s your assigned task for now then Solas. Horns, you’re going on a wolf hunt, if you haven’t a clue on how to harvest their leather, just keep them in a cool place until I get back. They want ten pelts. Dorian, you and the Inquisitor can see about finding some iron around here. They want five chunks, two mages should be plenty for such a task”.

The Inquisitor fumes at this elf giving orders to everyone, and those orders being heeded “And what exactly will you be doing”? It was a fair question, albeit petty “I’ll be going after a golden halla and herding it back to their camp. The sooner we get these favors done, the sooner you’ll have your alliance”. Lavellan huffs but follows after Dorian in search of iron. Bull goes off in search of wolves and I head to the river’s edge in search of one set of herbs.

We returned to camp with our prospective supplies, Bull even having the necessary skill to harvest the pelts correctly. Just as we gave these items to Nissa for her to check off her list, the sound of hooves against the ground had all of us looking up. A golden halla burst into camp and was quick to hide amongst the others in the camp, its breathing slowly calming as it began to feel safe. A moment later, our diplomat skidded to a halt, a satisfied smirk on their face. Their armor and cloak covered in a layer of dust and their hood had appeared to have fallen ages ago. The hood obscured many features it seemed. Their hair was shaven at the sides, but the rest was long black tresses that were elaborately twisted into a braid. Several rings were pierced through both of their ears, silver in color.

The young dalish man marveled at the creature “Ah look! Already she makes herself known to the others. She knows she’s meant to be here. Thank you lethallin. I’ll never be able to express my gratitude”. By this point the sun was beginning to fade over the plains.

“Perhaps now would be a good time to head back to our own camp to rest. Our friend here can explain any other tasks we’ve been given and we can pick up on them in the morning” I suggested. Everyone seemed to agree, though the diplomat was rather apathetic to the whole situation.

“You go ahead and do that. I’ll go gather the last of their requested supplies and meet you here in the morning”. Before anyone could say a word, they vanished into nothing. Rather than waste energy on finding a rogue that didn’t wish to be found, we returned to camp for the night. Our field agents kept the fire going and there was even food ready for us when we arrived. Fairly exhausted for the day, everyone was quick to turn into their tents as the sun finally set over the horizon.

By the time everyone had a morning meal, the sun was well established in the sky. Our diplomat was sitting next to a crying elf, a gentle hand on her leg as they spoke to her in soft tones. As we got closer, the elf was able to get a handle on her emotions and I began to notice more on the condition of our diplomat. Despite the copper tan of their skin, dark circles were just as evident, and the white bandages wrapped around their torso.

They stood slowly and walked with care towards us “I’ve completed all but one task. I traveled to the Emerald Graves to retrieve the bear pelts and I found Emalien’s brother. Go to the Shrine of Sylaise and retrieve a talisman that looks like this and you’ll have your alliance” they show us an illustration in a journal before giving said journal to the puffy eyed elf.

The Inquisitor doesn’t put up a fight this time, recognizing that their diplomat was in no mood given their exhaustion and injury. With a nod between them, they hop into the back of one of their caravans. No doubt the diplomat had garnered the favor of the clan as no one uttered a word. I recalled vaguely where the ruins of this shrine were and lead our group in that direction “It seems you made a good choice in a Dalish diplomat, boss. They’ve got them curled around their finger already”.

She sighs “I’ll admit it was best that we found them when we did. I know Josephine was counting on us to seal this alliance so that we have enough clout to be invited to the Winter Palace. I wouldn’t have a clue as to how to begin speaking with them.” It was refreshing for leaders to admit their weaknesses.

We arrived at the ruins about an hour into our travels. Our clothes were slightly wet from the river before Dorian blasted a wave of heated air over us. Inside were a pair of Red Templars, likely looking for the same artifact. It was four against two, so it was only a matter of time before we killed them and retrieved the talisman from a desiccated corpse in front of Sylaise’s statue. There was no laden power in the trinket, though it held deep sentimental value to the clan.

“Solas, would you carry it for me?” asks the Inquisitor. I nod and place the talisman into one of my pockets. Once we were away from the river, conversation blossomed in the group “I wonder if our diplomat has managed to beguile his way into any of the Dalish’s trousers while we were away” Dorian remarks.

Bull scoffs “How can you be so sure it’s a he? Elf types are pretty hard to tell apart if you’re not in skin-tight robes”. The Inquisitor’s skin flushes, whether in anger or embarrassment I couldn’t quite tell. Let it be known that she was indeed wearing rather form fitting robes.

“No offense boss, but Dalish physique is very lithe all things considered”. She responds with a grunt, clearly offended.

Dorian laughs “I think I’d know a male when I see one. If not by his looks, he has the gait and demeanor.”

Bull shakes his head “I don’t know what those ‘Vint eyes of yours see. Who knows, maybe they’re both?” They continue bickering about the perceived gender of our ally until we reach the Dalish camp. They were out of the caravan at this point, washing their face in the cool river water. The armor from their torso was missing, leaving tanned yet scarred flesh exposed for the world to see. Black markings trailed up from the wrist and across their back if not their chest. Dorian held his hand out to Bull; it seems they placed a bet of some kind. Bull begrudgingly forks over the coin upon seeing a well-muscled chest instead of breasts. For a moment I felt disappointment but couldn’t place the source of such a feeling. We hadn’t been spotted yet or our presence was completed disregarded as he turned away from us, the turn revealing angry looking claw marks that ripped down the front to the back of their ribs.

A small Dalish boy ran up to him, handing him some hastily picked elfroot, the roots of the plant still clumped with dirt. He gives the child a small smile and pulled out a piece of honey coated bee’s wax as if by some feat of magic. The child took it with a grin and rushed off. He sighs and rinses the dirt away in the river. We watch for a few more moments as he bites into the plant and starts chewing on it. He spits it into his hand as a fine paste. The Inquisitor opens her mouth to protest, to which Bull puts a hand over her mouth as the diplomat spreads the paste into his wounds. There’s but a slight grimace in his features to indicate discomfort, but that is quick to fade as the herb does its work.

“I take it you found the talisman. Give it to Emalien, over on the left next to a caravan. I’ll finish up here and introduce you to some people and we can be on our way” he grunts.

Knowing that the Inquisitor had to speak, Bull moved his hand “Alright, Solas, if you would please”. I nod and find the elf in question, presenting the talisman to her “I believe this will hold some significance to you”. She looks utterly shocked, but the expression turns into a sad smile. “I didn’t know if it was real, my brother Valorian left the clan to search for it. This means a great deal to my people. The Inquisition has chosen its friends wisely”.

My task complete, I turn to find the topless diplomat with a side covered in crude elfroot paste and Dorian looking mildly sickened. He rolls his eyes at the Tevinter mage and puts a hand on the Inquisitor’s shoulder. She flinches for a moment as she’s led to the Keeper. “Keeper Hawen, this is Inquisitor Lavellan. She has been looking to forge an alliance between your clan and the Inquisition. It was by her leave and with the help of her and her group that your camp is well-stocked for travel among other things that have built bridges with members of your clan. I’m sure a solid alliance with the Inquisition would reap future benefits similar to what you’ve experienced”.

The Inquisitor steels herself, but her nerves are plain as day to anyone with any experience in reading body language. The keeper assesses Lavellan with a sharp eye before nodding once “I believe forging a relationship between our groups would be beneficial to everyone involved. Loranil was begging for my permission to leave the clan to join your cause not too long ago. Best you acquaint yourself with him young Lavellan, he’ll be acting as our go between hence forth. Dareth shiral”.

The Inquisitor nods and gives a shallow bow before being dragged away to meet the young hunter that wished to join our cause. The introductions were brief, and he was sent to meet with the scouts at our camp to be given orders and directions back to Skyhold. Our diplomat collected his armor from one of the other Dalish and after covering his wounds with a piece of cloth, was ready to move out of the Exalted Plains.

We made camp as the sun began to fall, still far from Skyhold. It was much colder in the Emprise du Lion, snow covering the ground as we reach a higher altitude. Everyone but Bull shook against the cold. Dorian complaining here and there. By the time we had a fire made and our clothes began to dry, our group was exhausted from fighting through the weather. Rations were passed around, although whatever our diplomat had cooking over the fire smelled far more appetizing. It was hard to say when he had the time to find the ingredients, but in the end he was the only one was a bowl of a warmed slurry. Dorian stared at it with a pitiful, begging glance. The elf we still didn’t get the name of raised an eyebrow at the expression. Swallowing the last of the slurry, he refilled the bowl and passed it to the begging mage. His eyes brightened with joy and he let out an obscene sound at the taste of it.

“You gonna share with the rest of us or just pretty boy?” grunted Bull. He shrugs “I only have the one bowl. Unless you have others in the camp, you’ll have to take turns eating it”. Bull immediately goes to his tent and brings out a bowl of his own. The others are quick to do the same. Once Dorian finishes, he takes the bowl from him and put it in my hands. The necromancer looks betrayed and huffs, going to his own tent and retrieving a bowl of his own. While we enjoy a taste of real food on the road that isn’t rations, everything seems to go back to normal. Bull and Dorian and flirting and exchanging inside jokes while the Inquisitor turns to me, asking more on my experiences with the Fade and its creatures.

The new member of our group was entirely forgotten, for a while at least until it suddenly clicked for the others that we still didn’t know his name. Bull was the first to voice it “Hey, faller from the Fade. What’s your name? We’ve been calling you diplomat this whole time and it’s getting on my nerves”.

He looks towards the group, having turned his back on us while still sitting nearest to the fire “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. Suppose I forget that names mean a lot to you people. Call me Athras if it makes you feel better”.

Dorian, now fully invested in the drama that Athras has unleashed into the camp, turns onto him “And how long exactly were you planning on going on without telling us?”

He shrugs “I wasn’t keeping it a secret if that’s what you’re implying”. Lavellan was just as quick to jump on Dorian’s words “Why not give it to us when we met then? I hadn’t even heard you give a name to any of the Dalish either”.

Athras leans back with a groan, turning to face the agitated group “I honestly hadn’t thought about it. Hard to remember the pleasantries of social interaction when you’ve been alone for…how long has it been…that many seasons really… damn”. His words soften as he talks to himself more towards the end. There’s a look of sadness behind his eyes for a moment, but its quickly replaced with apathy “Point being. You’ve adopted yourself a resident recluse. I’m sure you’ll find my manners…lacking”. He leans back into one of the convenient stones, pulls his hood over his eyes. With the idea of rest in mind, my eyes moved over to the tents. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. The last tent was the largest and was for the soldiers acting as our escort while the rest of us had our own.

I sigh, not particularly wanting to bring Athras back into the realm of problems, but I’m sure the others notice the same issue. “There is also the matter of shelter for the evening.” A short pause later and everyone was on the same page. “Well shit. Can’t share my tent. Sorry Spooks.”

Dorian rolled his eyes “You’re welcome to share mine for the night darling.” There’s an audible inhale and exhale coming from the agitated elf. “Unless you have a mind to be stabbed in the night. Cohabitating is unwise. Some might say I have an unhealthy dose of paranoia. I have some gifts from the Dalish clan that’ll serve me just as well as a tent for the night. Do go on pretending as though I don’t exist. I much prefer it that way”.

He stands up, his movement stiff at first as he moves away from the group more into some nearby trees. Dorian’s expression turned to a pout and everyone became content with leaving Athras on his own. They got back into conversing again, Lavellan joining in a discussion with the necromancer about certain Tevinter spells. I was left watching the recluse set up their own accommodations out of the snow. With practiced ease, he pulled various branches into a nest, tying them down with hempen rope no doubt given to him by the Dalish. Once he had a sturdy bed, I watched his form disappear behind tough hides being draped over the upper branches until he was no longer visible. He climbs out of the self-made nest, landing softly and almost silently. This was long enough for them to grab the pack which was yet another gift of the Dalish, perhaps more a reward for his actions. He was quickly back up and settled into the den in the trees. With the bitter cold coming with the night, everyone made their way into their tents, no doubt settled into piles of warm furs much the same way as I.


	2. This is real I guess

Solas:

Falling into the Fade was as easy as ever. There were many spirits to engage with around where our camp had been set. Surprisingly, I wasn’t alone. I haven’t had many encounters with people in the Fade aside from the Inquisitor. There was also the ill-thought kiss to remember in that instance. Athras was conversing with a spirit. This one was tinged in blue-violet and resembled a human. There was no sign of animosity between the two, though one might consider him to be in danger with a spirit of desire around. “I get it. You made a deal and now he’s trying to get out of it by having someone else do the dirty work”.

The spirit agrees “Right?! I can hardly find anyone willing to do business with me with all this anti-spirit propaganda being promoted by the Chantry.” Athras nods in understanding, his words soft in volume and a light twitch of his lip into a smile, “It’s a wonder a choice spirit such as yourself hasn’t got the entirety of Thedas wrapped around your finger by now”.

I didn’t think it was possible for a spirit to blush, let alone one that could be considered a demon. The spirit coughs in embarrassment “You’ve got a sweet tongue on you. I’m sure you say stuff like this to everyone, not including spirits like old Imshael.”

He shrugs, not denying the spirit’s statement “I have many pretty words I could say. I find that the ones closest to the truth tend to work better. What do you think?” Imshael laughs “I knew there was something I liked about you. If you’re ever in Emprise du Lion again, be sure to visit. I’ve got other dreams to invade, deals to make.”

The spirit wonders off, leaving Athras alone. Being in the Fade bolstered my confidence, and I any inhibitions on interacting with the strange elf went out the window “Few are willing to converse with spirits, let alone demons. I wonder what that says about you”.

He didn’t seem surprised by my sudden appearance “Choice spirit. He’s quite adamant about that. As for what that says about me? That would depend on who you’re speaking to. I’m sure there are a fare few who would love to throw me under the title of heretic or perhaps even blood mage for a conversation alone”.

At this point we are standing within a few feet of each other “You’re not a mage. Anyone willing to call you a practitioner of blood magic would be foolish”.

He tilts his head to the side “If I am indeed not a mage. Then pray tell how am I here?” That was the question I too wanted the answer to “That I cannot answer. Even the Inquisitor, who has a particular connection to the Fade cannot get here on her own”.

He hums thoughtfully “Suppose we’ll find out in time. Speaking of, I’m feeling the ache of dawn in my bones. I’ll be gone soon. Until the next time **_Solas_** ”. With that, he faded from existence, no doubt awakened from the realm of dreams. Still, I knew next to nothing about him, and yet he said my name. The sounds falling from his lips in the ancient tongue I had grown to miss.

I stayed in the Fade for a little while longer. Observing the hierarchy of spirits in the area and making note of those stuck in a never-ending loop of their last actions. The sound of crunching snow outside my tent pulled me away from the scenery. Quickly dressing in robes appropriate for the weather, I joined the others outside. Bull appeared to be the most comfortable, sitting by the small fire. Dorian, ever the Tevinter noble was far from awake, grumbling next to the Qunari. The Inquisitor was passing a cup of a steaming beverage to him, perhaps a tea or coffee to wake him up faster.

I looked to the den in the trees, only to find it completely dismantled and a self-proclaimed recluse several branches higher. I join the group at the fire, the call of a few passing ravens off in the distance. A similar sound coming from the trees above us, startled the group, myself included. Looking to the sound, I find Athras to be the source. How he was able to make such sounds, I couldn’t fathom. But the skill proved to be useful as a raven landed on a branch just above him. Soft cooing sounds left him as he gently stroked the creatures breast feathers.

Having been startled, Dorian was considerably more awake “He’s sort of a gentle soul isn’t he?” Bull scoffs “I don’t see how talking to birds that pick corpses clean means gentle soul. Manipulative hermit suits him better”.

Said elf chuckled and the bird flew off “The manipulative hermit has ears Horns”. Bull grumbles, thinking he hadn’t been heard, a faint darkening of his skin indicating a blush of embarrassment.

Athras descends, holding a small piece of parchment “This could prove to be useful to our dear Inquisitor”. He hands the parchment to her, a slight smirk on his face.

Her eyes widen as she reads over the message “Red Templar marching orders. We need to get this to Cullen as soon as we reach Skyhold. How did you get these!” she yells.

Athras points to the sky “The raven was carrying it. I sent the order ahead but made you a copy. Wouldn’t be useful unless they actually had their orders”. In much brighter spirits, and more motivated to get this crucial information to Cullen, the Inquisitor ordered the camp to be broken down and for the group to move out.

We all fell into step, though I noticed that Athras trailed towards the back of the group. He kept a distance from us. Still he could prove useful should I garner his loyalty. I slowed my own speed until I fell into step with him. He ignores my presence for a moment, a level of insecurity in his gait. He truly seemed uncomfortable with the close proximity “Any particular reason you’ve decided to join me at the back of the pack?”

We get back onto the trail that led deeper into the mountains “Mostly to find a semblance of peace. I can only listen to Bull and Dorian flirt for so long”. He makes a noncommittal noise and we fall into silence. A few hours of walking later and the walls of Skyhold were visible. I noticed Athras was becoming increasingly on edge as we walked through the gates. I watched as he was guided towards the war room with the Inquisitor, Dorian and Bull having already returned to their respective nooks. I returned to my own place in the rotunda, choosing to read a book to pass the time. There was a sudden rush of air and all the doors that could be shut were shut. Looking up from my book, I found the panting form of Athras sitting up on the scaffold that I use to paint my frescas. Looking at the candle, I suspected that he’d been in the war room for an hour. “Athras. What brings you?”

He inhales and exhales, getting his breathing under control “They all began fighting over where I would be placed in the ranks here. Josephine insists on me acting as a liaison to the Dalish clans, Leliana wants me intercepting enemy communications, Cullen wants me to join the front line. Too much noise for a recluse like me”.

I raise an eyebrow “And did you try to tell them what you would be comfortable doing”. He laughs bitterly “Couldn’t get a word in edgewise. While they were all focused on each other, I slipped out. I suppose that’ll probably put me closer to being under Leliana and her assassin spies”.

Putting a mark in my book, I gave the clearly shaken elf my full attention “What is it that you want to do? Surely they would take that into account given what you’ve helped us with so far”. He shrugs “I’m not well versed in any of it. I was used to taking care of the dead and dying before my little run in with the Fade”.

I raise an eyebrow “I find it hard to believe considering how you managed to gain the allegiance of Hawen’s clan as well as intercept a known enemy’s marching orders.”

He hops down from the scaffold, light and unheard despite the height from the stone floor “Believe what you want. I’ll make myself useful elsewhere until they eventually find me”. He disappears through the door that leads outside. I’m curious as to where he’ll make himself useful, but not nearly enough to follow him.

Athras:

This whole thing was quickly turning into a shit show. I had taken part in a ritual for one of my client families. I wouldn’t usually actively participate, given my contract with death, but they had insisted on it. The next thing I know, I’ve been possessed by many spirits who are quick to impart their wisdom onto my very soul. When I finally came to, I was in the air and crashing to the ground. My surroundings were familiar, but definitely not the world I left. I was in Thedas, a world that had been nothing but the imagination of a few overworked game developers. My skills from life transferred over and then some.

To land right in the lap of the Inquisition certainly wasn’t on my list either. But apparently I was an elf and that meant I could help the city elf Inquisitor get the loyalty of the Dalish clan here. I was in no position to say no as I had no idea if my contract still existed in this world. I found out quickly that I could speak three languages fluently, common, Dalish, and the ever so interesting ancient elvhen.

It was easy to complete the side quests, especially when I could actively delegate tasks as needed. Soon the mission was complete, though I did take a swipe from one of the great bears that I had killed. There was a vague knowledge that elfroot paste would fix my issue along with what a soldier might do in a pinch. Trying to interact with these characters was difficult. I knew their stories and their personalities, but they could never know this. I allowed my truest self to come forward, the true recluse that didn’t enjoy interacting with other humans. Spirits and the dead were just fine. Most of the time, the dead did not speak, they did not judge and there was solace in that.

As we continued to travel, it really settled in that this was real. No amount of sleep would send me back. I began to feel trapped and unsteady. My short break down near Solas gave me pause. I couldn’t afford to be weak. Social recluse, fine, but I couldn’t show how much all this was affecting me. I left the rotunda straight down the stairs where I knew the medical tents to be. It was just the right type of madness to where my presence would go unnoticed unless I spoke too loudly.

There was a soldier, coughing and whimpering on a cot near the edge of the camp. His pain went unnoticed as the few healers had their focus elsewhere. I manage to steal a bucket of clean water and a small cup. The rest of what I needed in the little pack that the Dalish had gifted me for helping them. I get the cup filled with water and help him drink it once his coughing fit settles. There are burns all over his arms, some sections of it reeking with infection. There were likely other wounds under his clothes that hadn’t even been seen to yet. I pull some actual elfroot paste from my bag and gently rub it along the wounds. His whimpering settles and he grimaces “Why bother helping me. I’m dying anyway. That’s what all the healers have said”.

I bandage his arms carefully as I respond “Even if you are dying, there’s no need for you to suffer. I’m not a healer, but I can at least ease some of your pain”.

He sighs as the elf root settles into the burns “It’s getting harder to breathe”. I take a clean cloth from the bag and dip it into the cool water.

There’s blood speckled on his forehead and in his hair “I know. I’m sorry your death couldn’t be quicker”. I slowly clean his face with the cool cloth, humming as I get the grime out of his hair. It’s not too long before his breathing slows.

His last words “Thank you”. Even as he passes, I continued until his hair is free of blood. I find a nearby clean sheet and drape it over him. I had been looking for a nearby healer to find out where the dead were to be sent when I felt a presence behind me “Arms, still burning long after the flames were out. That sword ran deep. A voice, my arms are numb, a face calm and soothing. Cool cloth against my skin, it’s the cleanest I’ve felt in days”.

I turn back to find Cole crouched next to the soldier I had just watched die. He would probably know the answer to my question “Do you happen to know where I would take him?”

He looks up in surprise “You can see me?” I nod “And hear you as well. I’m going to wrap him up, but I don’t know where they keep their dead here. Can you help me?” His confusion quickly changes to a small smile “Yes. I like helping”.

I take my time wrapping up this soldier in the sheet, giving Cole direction when I needed him rolled one way or another. With muscle that took time to develop, I lifted him into a bridal carry. Cole was quick to show me where to go and soon left as I spoke with the one who kept track of all the dead. “What’s the number on his boot?” have lifted his legs while wrapping, I thankfully remembered seeing the double digits “42”. The human nodded “Rooks, Warren. Single, no living family. He’ll be buried here. Set him over there and we’ll make sure he’s given his rites and a proper burial”.

I nod “See that you do” before setting him down as requested. I leave the death records building and return to the medic tents, finding Cole tending to whoever needed help without being remembered for it. The dead man’s bed had already been taken by another wounded solider, though hers were not nearly as severe. I made rounds, finding no others in danger of dying and turned to leave “They don’t see you here either” Cole’s voice rang out as he appeared next to me.

“They don’t want to see me. So long as no one is actively seeking me out. I’ll hardly be noticed amongst all this noise”.

He hums in thought “You have shadow that clings to you. It keeps you safe. It looks scary, but it isn’t”.

I could barely contain my sigh of relief “Thank you for your help. Come find me if the dead or dying have need of me”. He nods and walks back to the tavern, no doubt going completely unnoticed by all. I decided to hang around the sparing ring, glad that the inquisitor had chosen it over the relaxed courtyard.

“You lost rabbit?” a condescending voice called. I turned and narrowed my eyes in the direction of Vivienne. My lip curls in a snarl, but I give her no ammunition. “Why don’t you be a dear and fetch me a light snack” she said with a wave of her hand.

I could feel a hot rage simmering beneath my skin, but I continued to ignore the annoyance that was the circle mage. It was when she had the nerve to smack me. I saw red and had her up by her throat. I was surrounded in moments with weapons drawn. I ignored them for the time being and squeezed her a little tighter. It wasn’t enough to completely constrict her airways, but there was significant pressure. I could feel the magic in her hands sparking, but without a foci, she was unable to do any real harm to my person. “I am no servant. You humans are typical. If this is how you treat those around you, I doubt you would be missed”. I had half a mind to throw her when the Inquisitor and her advisors rushed down.

“Athras! Let her go” commanded the Inquisitor. I acquiesced, though I dropped her to the ground non too gently.

“Is this the type of company you keep Inquisitor? Circle mages who think that anyone with pointed ears is a servant to order and smack about?”

She looks from Vivienne to the all too clear red handprint on my face, the mark of a ring even scratched into my face. Lavellan opens and closes her mouth a moment. Clearly she had been read to jump to Vivienne’s defense before she found out the reason for such violence “The Inquisition is for all. I’m sorry you were treated in such a way”.

I roll my eyes and move through the sea of still drawn swords and stood shoulder to shoulder with the supposed leader “I would speak with the other servants. If she’s treated me in such a way on the first day of my arrival, I can’t imagine how she treats everyone else”.

She nods and I continue walking back up to Skyhold, the sound of Josephine scolding Vivienne slowly fading from my ears. Back in the mess hall, Leliana had evidently followed me inside “Follow me”. In no position to argue, I followed her up the familiar steps to her tower. She gestures for me to take a seat at her impromptu desk. I do so and wait. She too is silent, her eyes looking, judging, testing. In reality, I could sit here all day with this silence. Finding something satisfactory, she finally spoke “None of us realized you weren’t in the war room until we were informed of you holding Vivienne by the throat. I apologize if our arguing got to be too much”.

I raised an eyebrow “That long? Must have gotten more heated than I anticipated. Did you all manage to come to decision despite my lack of input?”

She nods “Yes, I think it ended in my favor, particularly when you managed to roam around the grounds with no one really noticing you up until that confrontation. We can’t remove her from the Inquisition, but rest assured she will be watched and the servants or other elves in our employ will be encouraged to report anything untoward”.

I nod “Considering what I’ve done for the Inquisition already, I’d like to request a minimum of three days to rest and get settled into my new surroundings. The Inquisitor mentioned lodging. Considering Cullen was unsuccessful that means I won’t be in the barracks with the other soldiers”.

She makes some notes in her books “Yes, she’s arranged to have a room in the East Wing made ready for you. The only ones staying in that wing are my assassins and Solas”.

I raise an eyebrow “By that deduction, I assume I am to join the ranks of your assassins?” She gives me a smile of approval “That is what we were hoping, unless you think your skills would be put to better use elsewhere”.

I pause for a moment, thinking if this was the right way to go from here. There was a sudden warmth in my bones that gave me my answer “The further from the public eye I can be the better”. She gives me a soft, brief smile “Then we have an accord. Josephine will have your payment for your diplomacy in the Exalted Plains delivered to your room. It should be ready by now and it is getting to be quite late. I’ll send a servant to your room with dinner if you’d prefer to keep out of the mess hall”.

We walk through the back halls from the tower and into the cool and quiet east wing. She stopped when we reached my door “Any food preferences for me to give the servants?” I open the door “Meat is preferred, perhaps a cup of tea as well I’m not too picky on the blends”.

She nods and I shut the door as she leaves. The room was simple. A fireplace, a desk, and a bed. The fire was roaring steadily and warmth was slowly creeping into the room. I take the pack I’d been carrying around all day and set in on the bed, going through its contents. By some magic, it had been expanded to hold more than it normally would. This included the fur blankets, a bowl, a cup, canteen, basic healing supplies, a lovely tanning knife, some loose-fitting night clothes, and a pouch of a custom blend of tea. I change into the soft clothes, looking ever the part of a Dalish elf aside from my lack of vallaslin. My wound had scabbed over nicely and no longer needed to be bandaged provided I didn’t move around to vigorously.

With much shorter sleeves, I did notice the odd markings wrapped down my arms and across my chest that probably wrapped around the back. I pack my items away in the room neatly, trying to take over the space. I’m not sure how long it was before there was a tentative knock on my door. “Enter” I respond, flicking through the books that had been placed on my desk.

A little slip of an elf opens the door carefully before bringing in a tray of food. She sets it and the stand to hold it down near the bed. I expect her to scurry off, but she remains. Looking up from the desk, I see her fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. Finally, I see resolve in her eyes as she dares to meet my gaze “Thank you. For standing up to miss Vivienne”.

Seeing a glimpse of a bandage beneath her sleeve, I click my tongue in distaste “I would do it again. Is that her doing?”

The elf, while shy, nods “I wasn’t quick enough”. My lip curls, wanting to form a snarl “No, she was not patient enough. Have you reported it to Josephine?”

Once again she nods “I overheard Lady Montilyet give her quite the lashing after you left and knew I’d be safe”. Nodding, I find one of my tins of elfroot paste “Not sure if you have access to this stuff, but it should help it heal”.

She hesitates, but as I continue to hold the tin out, she reluctantly takes it. “My thanks, could I have your name? I haven’t been able to hear it around the castle yet”.

Moving over to inspect the tray of food, I reply “Athras. No title. No clan.” She smiles with a nod “Thank you Athras. I’ll leave you to your meal”. As she’s about to head through the door, I figured it’d be best to get it out now “Advise any other servants that they shouldn’t attempt to wake me through physical means. A knock at the door or food being brought in should suffice”.

She nods and leaves me to eat. The food smells decent enough. Nothing quite the same as back in my own world, but close enough. A simple vegetable soup, bread, and a decent junk of red meat cooked through. It tasted alright and I finished every morsel, my new elvhen body possessing a far faster metabolism and thus required more food to feel satisfied. I set the tray and stand just on the inside of my door, no doubt someone will be by to retrieve it later. The next thing in order for a well-rounded day was a nap. There was a nice fluffy duvet, no doubt an import from Orelais. I pulled it back so the fur blankets, which had already started to have my scent, were the once against my skin before pulling the duvet over top. I was content as I was going to get trying to nap in a strange place, but I knew I’d manage. In the end, it didn’t take long for me to slip into sleep.


	3. Encounters and Missions

Solas:

I had just begun getting my paints set up to work on one of my frescas some more when a loud commotion outside caught my attention. Setting the palette down, I opened the door that lead outside and looked to see what was going on. My eyes widened, Athras was holding Vivienne up by her throat, surrounded by soldiers with their swords drawn. He did not relent until the Inquisitor rushed out to yell at him. I couldn’t quite hear the words exactly, but he faced no retribution for his actions and was brought back inside by Leliana. Josephine was quick to lash out at Vivienne, who clearly earned the ire of our ambassador. I figured I’d hear rumors spreading before too long and find out what happened and went back to painting. After a decent amount of work done, I stepped down from the scaffold to find Josephine waiting for me. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long” I respond, wiping my hands clean of paint.

She shakes her head “Not at all. Your paintings are spectacular. But back to business, I have Athras’ payment for his work in the Exhalted Plains. Considering you live in the same wing, I thought you could bring it to his room on your way back”.

I raise an eyebrow at the bag of gold she has in her hands. Its rather sizable, given the average pay grade around Skyhold. I nodded “It would be no trouble. Which door is his?”

She smiles gratefully, no doubt having little free time on her hands to do it herself “You’re a life saver. If I’m not mistaken, he was placed across the hall from yours as it was the last room left in the east wing”. With that she left the room and I was left to my task. Having accomplished as much as I could, going to bed seemed reasonable.

The twists and turns of Skyhold lead me to the east wing. Down, at the end of the hall on the right was my room. Just across the hall was Athras, still very much an intriguing stranger. I knock on the door, three short bursts of sound. There’s the sound of wood creaking from strain before there’s a response “Enter”.

I step into the room find Athras stepping down from the frame of his bed. Loose hairs fell from his braid, as disheveled as an elvhen solider would ever get. Stretching, he steps off the bed entirely “I assume that bag of gold is the reason for your interruption of my nap?”

I nod and set the bag on the desk as I walk further into his room. “Lady Montilyet asked if I would bring you the payment for services rendered. You weren’t sleeping on the bed frame I hope?”

He rubs the sleep from his eyes “No, I’ll admit to being startled by the sudden noise. Paranoia drove me to the closest, yet highest vantage point. Thanks for delivering it untampered. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to sleep. My period of rest is limited and who knows how busy Leliana will keep me”.

Still, I hadn’t heard yet of the rumors going around about what happened between him and Vivienne “Forgive me for keeping you, but would you be willing to tell me what caused you to react so violently towards Vivienne. I wish to avoid making the same mistake.”

There were dark handprints marking his arm that I observed as he sighed. “She thought to order me as a servant. When I ignored her orders, she dared to strike me”.

I raised an eyebrow “And the marks on your arm?” He looks down as an after-thought “Huh, didn’t think her magic was able to get through my armor without a foci. No matter, she tried to force me to relinquish my hold on her. Without a focus, she was unable to do any real harm”.

No doubt my expression is but a grim smile “I appreciate you clarifying the matter. I hope the rumors don’t vie so far from the truth. Considering Vivienne’s place in society, you might just be socially flayed”.

He shrugs “What do I care what the humans and their ilk think of me? I’ve rallied the commoners in this castle behind me, she’ll have no food or service if her behavior continues. All it took was one pointed eared individual to stand up to her, the rest will be confident to do the same”.

I hummed in acknowledgement “Wise words indeed. Pleasant dreams”. He nods “Yours as well”.

I return to my own space across the hall, finding myself impressed with Athras. He’s shown already a wisdom that I had yet to encounter with the Inquisition. The Inquisitor understood some of the struggles of enslaved or servant elves, but not as much as she should. She grew up friends with local nobles in Ferelden and thus had little interaction with elves other than her parents, who had by some miracle, crawled out of the serval class. Still, she continued to pine after my attention. She was interesting yes, and at the very least had little prejudice regarding spirits and the Fade. But she was hardly an elf despite her pointed ears.

I slip into the Fade, the remnants of energy quick to guide me towards the greatest concentration. I speak with a few familiar spirits, content to have this brief respite from the growing chaos. Not long after I was to be alone with my thoughts, the sound of a distant battle echoes across the Fade. Curious and bold, I follow the distant sounds until I happen upon a clearing. Down in the valley, there are three figures, mere shadows it seemed. As I got closer, I recognized two spirits of rage, their humanoid figures tinted in red and the increasingly familiar form of Athras.

There are no weapons involved, only the force of hand-to hand combat. Athras lands a solid kick to the side of one as he blocks a punch from the other. They exchange a variety of blows, fists, elbows, knees, kicks. They dodge some and block others. I watch curiously, daring to sit closer to get a better view. All three figures have some sort of pleased expression on their face. Pushing one spirit back with a kick, he pulled the other one into a hold. It grunts, kicking up a fuss to try and escape. When it proves to be impossible, it goes limp “I give. Mighty strong grip you got there”.

He releases the spirit and turns his attention to the other who had just recovered from its push back. They circle each other, giving a few testing blows. He raises his leg to kick, the spirit lifts his leg to block it. Athras does it twice more. The spirit, believing that he’ll do it again, raises his leg to block, only for Athras to kick the other leg, sending him crashing to the ground. The spirit laughs, taking the offered arm “Clever move. I’ll have to remember that one”.

Athras nods “I do try. My thanks for the spar”. The two spirits nod “You’re not like the other fleshlings. Can’t say we’ve ever had one ask for a spar when they end up in the Fade”.

Athras shrugs “You seemed friendly enough to me. Should we meet again, I’d love another round”. One laughs “Sure fleshling. We’ll be seeing you”. The pair walk off to who knows where, leaving a heavy breathing elf in the clearing.

He takes a few steading breaths and begins moving again. It looked to be a blend of combat and dance. I watched the tension leave his face and the energy about him turn peaceful. A familiar spirit of wisdom, a dear friend, approaches him. She doesn’t interrupt but basks in the energy he’s putting out. I watch as other spirits suddenly appear, mostly peaceful in nature, wisdom, knowledge, compassion. There were, however, others that were less so pride, despair, anger. These spirits being in such close proximity to each other usually causes chaos. These spirits were the polar opposites of each other and by all means should want to destroy one another, and yet they gather to watch a single creature find peace. Athras opened his eyes, the peaceful energy slowly leaving. It took the spirits away and they dispersed without doing any harm to one another. I feel compelled to step forward and ask him my many questions. Yet when I stepped into his line of sight, any words I had at the ready fizzled into nothing.

He was a beautiful specimen of an elf; dare I say the closest I’ve seen to my people since waking up to the nightmare I created. He sighs “It appears I have no escape from the waking world considering you seem to find me here. I wonder if you choose to find me or if it is by coincidence”.

I’m unsure of how I should feel about the accusation, but instead choose to take it in stride “It is only by chance, and the fact that both times we’ve slept relatively near one another. Your room is only across the hall from mine. If it’s any consolation, I haven’t been watching you the entire time”.

He laughs, the sound only holding the slightest bit of humor “I suppose I must settle for that. It matters not.”

There’s an eerie silence that it seems I must be the one to break “You’re proving to be an…intriguing addition to the Inquisition. I find myself glad to have another dreamer around”.

He raises an eyebrow “High praise coming from the lone wolf himself. It didn’t take me long to hear the cacophony of rumors surrounding you. They consider you to be the resident recluse of the Inquisitor’s inner circle”.

Odd that he managed to hear rumors about me in so little time, though I suppose it was easy considering how long he went unnoticed once he left the rotunda. “I can see why Leliana wished to have you under her wings. Though I wonder how you managed to go unnoticed for so long. A new face isn’t usually dismissed so quickly”.

He shrugs “It’s easier for elves to be dismissed than you’d think. Considering your current position, perhaps you’ve forgotten how they view us. Little more than timid servants or savages. You are unlike any other and yet there are those that would still seek to call you a servant for the shape of your ears”.

In that moment, there was a visible cloud of miasma leaking from his figure. Black at first as it bled to grey, then a mix of red and just the barest hint of purple. He stalks forward, for you couldn’t call his movement towards me to be anything else. “You’d do well, **_Solas_** , to remember that your life is considered much less valuable than that of a human, dwarf, and perhaps even a Qunari. They won’t change their minds because those that remain are weak, mindless sheep who shiver at the thought of raising their own voice”. His nose barely brushes against mine “It’s easy to disappear when you’re nothing”.

And as if to add insult to injury, his form collapsed into itself as he left the Fade. His words left a bitter taste on my tongue, throwing all my mistakes back in my face without naming them.

I woke not long after, eager to see what Athras would do with the anger that he’s brought back from our encounter. I step out into the hall just as I see the door across from mine close. I pause and listen to the conversation next to the door. A voice, clearly the female and most likely a servant “We wanted to make it clear, how grateful we are that you fought back against the Madame de Fer”.

There’s the clicking of a tongue in disapproval that bites away a snarl “I’d do it again, to anyone who’s dare lay hands on me. I am no one’s servant. There is nothing to thank me for, as I would have done it regardless”.

There is the slight clattering of a teacup being removed from its dish. “Regardless. We servants are glad that someone is willing to stand up for us. I certainly could never be as brave as you are”.

There is a sigh “No, perhaps not. They’ve beaten the idea of rebellion out of your kind generation by generation. I forget how difficult it must be for you to step out of your station. You may tell the others I don’t need or want their thanks. It is wasted on a creature such as I”.

The servant dares to giggle “You speak as if you are nothing. Like the rest of us I suppose”. Athras gives a humorless chuckle “To be something is to be valued by others”. The girl hums in agreement “Perhaps you will be something, Mistress Leliana certainly values her ravens”.

He snorts, amused “Perhaps indeed. Tell the cooks that the food looks delicious”. I hear nothing but assume the servant nods. She leaves the room, sending me a brief glance and a nod in my direction as she departs. I choose to return to the rotunda for the morning, having heard enough of Athras’ negative attitude for the day. And they say I’m grim and fatalistic.

Athras p.o.v

I found myself embraced in a cacophony of emotions as I awoke to the smell of food. Moments later a new elvish servant steps in with a new tray. It is quite an array for a mere assassin’s breakfast. Seeing a raised eyebrow, she gives her reasons. I bite back a snarl and reign in my anger slowly. Ultimately, I tell her to make sure I get no further thanks from the servants. Once she leaves, I truly look at what I’ve been given. A steaming carafe of what smelled like a black tea of some kind, eggs, sausage, and bread. There was also a parcel of dried meat, likely rations for my future endeavors. Kindness. I sit down at my desk and eat, debating on whether or not I needed the rest.

It was clear that close proximity to Solas would become a problem quickly. If Leliana keeps me as busy as I think she will, it limits our exposure. I know he knows nothing, but as it stands I can’t make it seem like I know things I shouldn’t. There is no conceivable way for me to know he is the Dread Wolf, and yet I keep shoving his mistakes in his face without naming them. I’m already over the elven servant or Dalish savage/tree hugger stereotype. I don’t want to stand out, but I certainly don’t want to be seen as lesser.

The Inquisitor doesn’t put forth the demeanor of a leader that cares about the little people. I should see if Sera has been recruited and if she has been, how she interacts or talks about the Inquisitor. Still, I’d find a way to make this work. Evidently this would become my life, and I’d be damned if I’d turn into a timid slave like the others. Finishing breakfast, I take the half full carafe up with me as I find my way back to the spy master’s tower.

It’s a near five-minute affair before I’m standing on the other side of the table, sipping away at my own tea until she deems me worthy of her presence. She doesn’t look up from her many papers as she finally addresses me “I thought you insisted on having a period of rest”.

I shrug “I’ve changed my mind. One day was enough”. She smirks, likely expecting this to happen “As it stands, I do have an assignment should you want it. Should take roughly a week to complete if you want it”.

I hold my hand out for the file “I’d like to read it over first before making any decisions”. She nods “Of course”.

I’m reading through the file. My target is a woman, a noble at that. She’s hasn’t been cooperating and is openly opposed to the Inquisition. Sketchy, I like it. Interestingly enough, she also buys elvish for a night or two to satisfy her sexual fantasies. There are no reported deaths of these sex slaves, so my safety isn’t at too much risk. “Can you tell me more of these fantasies of hers? Sexual preferences? And how exactly you want me to make her come to heel or disappear”.

She smiles “So you’ll take the job?” I set the file on the table “Not just yet. I need to be sure I can fulfill the role you’re asking me to play”.

Nodding, she goes into a full debrief of the assignment “Lady Roule has many…kinks…most involve her dominating her partner, though I’ve heard she has a secret enjoyment of being tied up. She has a tendency to prefer men but doesn’t shy away from women. You’ll be sent in as one of the elves up for sale that night. I have it rigged so that she will succeed in purchasing you. Your job is to make yourself enticing enough to make the bid. A few of the elves in this ring are 100% willing because this makes them a lot more money than bringing snobby nobles food so you will have some competition. You will slip her this slow acting poison during your night. Provided you use it correctly, she shouldn’t die from it until a week or so after your encounter. I’ll be giving you the antidote as well in case you decide to be creative in its administration”.

I hum deep in my throat “And the payment for this assignment? I assume I am paid per assignment instead of a wage such as others that are in the Inquisition’s employ”.

Her smile tells me she already knows I’ll be taking the job “Considering it is a matter of death, not diplomacy, it’ll be more than what you received from Josephine on top of whatever Roule pays us for you. We will give you a stipend to get whatever supplies or clothing you think you’ll need for the mission”.

I allow myself a smirk “Well then, best I get my outfit situated first assuming you’ll have travel taken care of. Say, how…exotic does she like them?”

She smiles “I’ll send a tailor to your room in an hour. That will give you time to design or think of what you’ll need. The auction is tomorrow evening, so you’ll be leaving for it as soon as your outfit is completed”.

With a last bit of exchange, I left the spy tower, going to the library where I hoped to find Dorian. Thankfully, he was in the same nook I would expect to find him. He looks bored as he flicks through the pages of an old tome. His eyes quick avert to find me and he gives a flirtatious smirk “Well hello Athras. You have the look of purpose in your eye, and its directed at me. Please don’t tell me you’re already going to profess your undying love for me?”

I have to laugh “I’m afraid not, though I do think what I have to say will be more interesting than whatever it is you’re reading”. He shut the book closed “Oh do tell. I do so hate being held in suspense”.

I walk around him as I speak, filling my words with honey “You are a man of class and fashion. As it stands, I have need of someone with your knowledge around these things. I have a tailor coming to my room to create an outfit. I’ve been assigned to seduce a target of our Spy Master’s ire and I don’t have the slightest clue as to what I should be wearing for that”.

Dorian laughs and settles on a smirk “Clearly. That armor won’t be getting any you between any noble’s sheets anytime soon. Why don’t we go back to your quarters and we’ll see just how devastatingly sexy we can make you?”

I have to smile at that “You just want an excuse to know where I sleep, such a fiend I’ve found myself in need of”. Dorian smiles at that, enjoying the banter likely more than he thought he would “Shall we?”

With a nod, we head back to my quarters. He observes the room with a hum of approval “More or less what I was expecting, you’ve been with us a day and don’t have much in way of possessions. Now strip, I need to see what I’m working with”.

I scoff, but none the less strip down to the small clothes the dalish had given me. They best compared to a set of boxers. Dorian hums in clear approval “I had wondered if those marks of yours went all the way down. I’m afraid your small clothes don’t flatter your form though”.

I raise an eyebrow, then decide to take a chance at removing those as well. In this form, I’ve grown comfortable with my body despite its polarity. The look on Dorian’s face was worth the trouble “You’re a woman?”

I roll my eyes “I certainly wouldn’t say that. I lack the equipment to be either, no breasts. Feel them if it makes you feel better, but these are pecks”. His hand reaches out like he might before he stops himself, a blush dusting his cheeks. I laugh “Oh come now Dorian, you’re the only one who’s seen me this undressed, at least tell me how gorgeous I am?”

My words took any amount of nerves out of him as he relaxed “While I find your physique to be a surprise, you do have the body to appeal to anyone despite their preferences, unless of course they’re a male looking for a top, but there are ways around that or so I’m told”.

I nod “That is why I believe I was selected for this assignment. Now enough of that and let’s see about what type of outfit would make a noble want to take me home for a fun night”.

He chuckles, the tension in the air gone “Sure sure, you can but your smalls back on by the way. I didn’t honestly think you’d remove them given my known preferences”.

I shrug and do as he asks “Considering I tend to fancy both the lads and lasses; your preferences are hardly a concern for me. Now my target prefers men but is open to the idea of sleeping with another woman. I think my outfit needs to err on the side of masculinity”.

He hums “Right, it wouldn’t put you out of your comfort zone in this case. I’m assuming you’re more man than woman where it counts”. I nod, pulling out the sketch pad Leliana sent me away with “I’d sooner be dead than caught in a dress or skirt”.

Dorian laughs “And when our Spy Master sends you after a straight male? What then?” My lip curls “That’d be one to decline”.

I start to draw the beginning of an outfit on a rough model male. An open cardigan with the no sleeves, a length just above the knees, with a pair of shorts that were form fitting, a well-placed prothesis would give the illusion I had decent assets. I pass it over to Dorian who hums “The cardigan is nice, we add a necklace, probably a choker of some kind and I think this could suit your needs. We make the cardigan red. I’m not sure how I feel about the shorts. You might have more appeal with dalish leggings. They’re form fitting and don’t leave much to the imagination”.

Just as we finished designing the outfit, the tailor waltzed in. She said nothing and Dorian took over in telling her what she’d be making. It was a relatively easy outfit to produce if one was a decent seamstress. She takes the needed measurements and leaves. “I don’t suppose you’d have a choker I’d be able to borrow to complete this outfit? I leave once it is ready later today”.

Dorian puts a finger to his chin in thought before he grins “I know just the one. Meet me in the library in an hour. I think your lunch should be here shortly so I’ll see you after you’ve eaten”. He leaves the room just as yet another servant brings in a tray of food.

He says nothing, but the wink he gives me is enough to know I’m still being spoiled by the kitchens. Another carafe of tea, a hearty stew, bread, and what looked to be a peach. Its skin had a similar scent to a peach. I take a slight bite into it, pulling back to get an idea for how its insides smelled. For all that this game was, at the very least they had familiar tastes and foods. I finished the sweet morsel, deciding I quite liked it and settled in to finish the rest. Once my meal was over with, I returned to the library, passing the wondering eyes of Solas as I travelled up the stairs. Dorian spots me easily with a grin “I hope you don’t mind, but I decided to have this commissioned for you instead”.

I raised an eyebrow and inspected the necklace being held before my eyes. A thin chain all things considered with a few smaller chains hanging in the center, clear gemstones hanging on the ends. I took it from his hands, feeling the thrum of magic weaved into its links. “And what exactly is this enchanted with?”

He rubs the back of his neck “I wondered if you’d be able to sense it. It’s better if I don’t explain it. All you need to know is that it’ll make your assignment much easier”.

Seeing the various eyes and no doubt ears about the library, I understood his hesitance. The magic itself didn’t feel harmful. If I could describe the feeling it would be, deceptive, but in my favor.

I wrap a casual arm over his shoulder “It’s a marvel Dorian. I appreciate the time and effort you’ve spent in making me passable to look upon”.

He puts on an affronted expression “Passable? I dare say that I’ve done more than that. Run along now Athras, I heard the outfit we commissioned is complete”.

I chuckle and wonder down the stairs, catching Leliana as I went “I must day you’ve come up with quite the scandalous attire. Most dare not to show so much skin, even for these auctions”. I shrug “Best to show them what I’ve got. I take it you’ve black mailed any others from bidding for my time once the ball starts to roll”.

She nods “There will be a few bets to make you seem coveted, a few rumors as well to entice her interest. Once she puts up a decent bid, everything will fall into place. I’ve put a few cosmetic items in with your outfit. You should change before you depart. We’ll send you off with dinner”. I make a noise of agreement and we part ways in the mess hall. Having a little over an hour before I needed to be ready for departure, I decided to see just what exactly my new choker would do.

The clasps were easy to maneuver, and the jewelry was fixed in its place in no time. There was a warm, tingling sensation that rolled through my body and a new sensation in my trousers. It didn’t take a genius to figure out my anatomy had changed. I assumed this was a work of blood magic. I can see why Dorian didn’t want to bring it up, but that begs to question how different this Dorian was compared to the games. In-game Dorian hated blood magic, because his father tried to use it to make him straight. Perhaps there was a fine line between what was and wasn’t acceptable blood magic in his mind. Either way, I was grateful for a means to complete this job with little exposure to the oddity that was my body. I knew Dorian wouldn’t tell anyone, as there was no benefit to doing so. I took it off for the time being, unsure of the limitations of the enchantment. My body took a few moments to return back to normal, the lingering magic wanting to stick. Thoroughly pleased, I went through the components of my outfit as well as the cosmetics that Leliana had packed. There was black and silver paint as well as some sort of lip stain that looked like blood in the bottle. I could add more to my exotic appeal by painting vallaslin on my face and perhaps adding highlights to the markings on my chest and arms with silver, but I wouldn’t be able to reach my back. I could go bother Solas.

Mind made, I stripped out of my armor into the leggings and my night shirt. I left the cardigan in my space for now so as not to ruin the surprise, lest any nobles start to blab. Grabbing the paint and brush, I head to the rotunda where I hoped to find the elf. I was in luck as the man was already painting. I give a whistle; both letting him know I was there and that I was impressed with his work. He hardly gives me a glance as he continues painting “Can I help you Athras. As you can see, I am otherwise occupied”.

I set the paints down on his desk “It wouldn’t take much of your time, it is a matter of painting. Its required for my upcoming assignment and I cannot reach the markings on my back. I was going to highlight them with this silver”.

He finishes the pull of a line before he sets his brush and palette down “I suppose I have time enough for that”.

I give him my best grateful smile and tug off my shirt “Mind the pants if you can, they’re a crucial part to my assignment”.

He nods, looking down to the brush and paints “Leliana provided these to you?” I nod “You’re welcome to keep them once I’ve completed my assignment, I doubt I’d use much of it”.

He manages a smile “I would like that. Silver is a difficult color to come by. You just wanted your markings on your back highlighted?” I shake my head “No, I was going to highlight the ones on my chest and arms as well. I figured I could handle that well enough”.

I feel the cool tough of the brush against my back and fight back a shiver. Turns out my markings were sensitive. “If it’s all the same to you, I could do them for you. It would be more uniform that way”.

I remain as still as I can as I reply “If it wouldn’t take too much of your time”. I cannot see the expression on his face to know what he’s thinking.

His voice is as smooth as ever as another line passes over my skin “The layer of paint on my latest work needs to dry, this little task is hardly of consequence”. It doesn’t take long for us to fall into silence. It is but a moment before he’s moved to the markings on my arms. I hold my position, watching as the silver paint reflects the light and makes the markings stand of beautifully. Moving to the ones on my chest, I thought I could see the barest dusting of a blush on his face. But I must have been seeing things considering Solas is as straight as they come. “If it isn’t against your orders, could you perhaps enlighten me as to why you need these done for the task Leliana has given you”.

Leliana hadn’t said not to tell anyone, but I could leave the name out. “As you know, I’ve been selected as one of Leliana’s ravens. Someone will be dying by my hand soon”.

He makes a noise of affirmation “Yes, though I usually don’t see any of them doing this for their assignments”. He finishes with a flourish “With the amount I used, it should dry within a few minutes. This particular paint tends to sink into skin and stain so it should not rub away with clothing right away”.

I nod “ ** _My thanks_** , perhaps I will tell you more of my assignment once its complete. I fear you may try to stop me otherwise”.

He gives me an odd look followed by a grim smile “Perhaps. How long is the mission intended for?”

I shrug “Perhaps a week. I think I’ll be spending time in Orelais. If you think of anything you might want from there, send a raven ahead”. His eyebrows raise as if he just realized something.

He goes behind his desk and pulls out a piece of parchment from between a book he’d been reading “Actually, I had made a list of materials I had wished to acquire. I’d be grateful if you could retrieve some of these in your time of Orelais. I should warn you that elves are not usually welcome in the standard markets”.

I raise an eyebrow “Let me guess, more human nobility nonsense? I appreciate the warning. Take care”. He nods and I depart back to my room to finish preparing for my mission. Looking in the mirror, I decide it is better to use the black paint to create vallaslin for myself. Picturing in my mind’s eye, I thought that Falon’din’s vallaslin would be most appropriate, even though Mythal’s would no doubt suite my features better. In the end, I chose Mythal’s singular branching design across my cheek bones. This assignment was based on my looks and the slave markings of Falon’din were not attractive in the slightest. With a steady hand, I manage to make passable vallaslin. No human would know the difference, but a Dalish elf would know them for what they were.

Slipping off my shirt, I put on the cardigan and observe the creature in the mirror. I certainly painted an image. I had just clasped the choker around my neck when Dorian walked into the room. He whistled, clearly impressed “My my love you certainly look devastating. The paint was a nice touch. It certainly added to your exotic appeal”.

I give him a smirk and he fakes a swoon “Come to see your handy work I see. I certainly didn’t anticipate the enchantment in the necklace, but none the less its appreciated”.

He sighs in relief and looks up, hopeful almost “So you’re not angry about how it was made?” I shrug “The method is hardly a concern to me. I’ve not been harmed by it, though I do notice that it tends to want to…stick I think is an appropriate term”.

He smiles at first then takes on a look of understanding “That is likely just a result of your preference. It won’t cause permanent change, but the nature of its creation will try to latch onto your desires”.

Nodding in acceptance, I pack away my gold, the rations left with me and my armor “Any particular Orlesian wines you’re interested in? I’m sure I could pilfer through the noble’s stores to find something to your tastes”. He hums in approval “See if you can’t find any White Seleny or perhaps Rowan’s Rose”.

It’s not long after Dorian leaves that Leliana is there to retrieve me. She looks stunned for a moment followed with satisfaction “I think you’ll have no trouble getting to Lady Roule looking like that. Just remember you only have to go as far as you want to with her. The poison must be ingested, here is the antidote. You’ll be leaving for Orelais by carriage. It’s a straight trip there. You must be seen around the markets after your night with her with no further private contact until she dies. Once there is word of her death, stay another day or two and then come back here. We’ve booked for your stay in one of the taverns, the innkeeper shouldn’t give you any trouble if he knows what’s good for him. Now, off you go”.

She escorts me down to the gates where a carriage is waiting. I climb into the back with my belongings, a dagger included just in case. I had a proper escort, and we encountered no bandits or demons on the way.


	4. Orelais Nonsense

Athras:

Overall a very peaceful trip. It was just the beginning of the evening as we arrived. A solider would put my belongings in my room at the inn tonight, as I wouldn’t be needing them. The last thing I did before stepping into the holding room for the auction was put the lip stain on. It really did have the color of fresh blood and made my lips stand out against my skin. There was hearty banter outside the room, nobles enjoying their wine and gossip. There were a few elves here, all too comfortable with being here. There were other, timid humans who no doubt had been forced here. Those that were here for the money sized me up, eyes narrowing as they recognized me as a threat. I raise an eyebrow, caring very little about their threatening gazes. It wasn’t long before one by one, individuals were called by number. An elf or two later and it was my number that was called next. I walk out onto the stage, fighting to keep a neutral pleasant expression on my face. It didn’t take long before a few bids were placed, my eyes floated out towards my target. I catch her gaze, giving her a wink and that’s all she needed to place a ridiculously high bid to keep everyone else at bay. The auctioneer marks down her number and sends me to another holding room for her to retrieve me later. It is perhaps twenty minutes before my target enters the room with another elf, this one having the demeanor of a regular servant. “Come along darling. You’re mine for the night. I have such plans for you”.

I smirk “I’m sure you do madam, let’s be off then while the night is young”. She smiles and gestures for me to take her elbow. I quirk an eyebrow, but escort her to the carriage like a proper gentleman.

She takes notice “My such lovely manners from a wild elf”. Once in the carriage, the servant drives the horse down the road to a nearby manor “I had to capitalize on my exotic looks to win your eye of course. The competition to be in your bed tonight was quite fierce”.

She laughs like a proper noblewoman and has me escort her to her bed chambers as well. The room is lit faintly with candles, a small table containing a cacophony of toys, including rope. The door shuts and locks behind us and her demeanor changes “Now, my little knife ear I’d like you to strip, keep that necklace on I quite like it”.

I turn and give her my most dominating gaze “I should think not madam. I’ve heard tales of your love to dominate the masculine, but not tonight”. She sputters, trying to regain her ground as I hold a shushing finger to her lips “No, it’s not what you need madam. You know that don’t you”.

Her eyes glazed over, slowly slipping into what I knew to be a true sub space. “You’re…you’re right”. My thumb teases her lower lip “I know”.

*** Sex begins, skip to bold if you don’t want to read it***

I pull her into a kiss, dipping my tongue across her bottom lip. She shamelessly moans and shutters against me. I slowly undress her as I walk her across the room. When she is down to her small clothes, her knees buckle against the bed. I remove my cardigan, folding it neatly as her chest heaves with want. I set the two bottles down on the table, the poison and antidote. She’s already too deep in her sub space to notice. I take the rope and encourage her into position with her arms behind her back. The feel of the rope against her skin brings her back to reality with a gasp “I must admit, I’ve not allowed many to put me in this position. You tie your knots beautifully”.

I give her a smile “Thank you madam. Have you ever had someone use wax with you?” She shakes her head “I’ve used it on others, but not myself”. I nod, retrieving a candle from the room “I think it would be excellent foreplay for you this evening. Shall I madam?”

She nods her head frantically, moaning as the first drops touch her skin. I soothe the area over with my tongue and before long, she’s begging “Please. I…need”. I hold a finger to her lips “You don’t know what you need madam. I’ll take care of you, not to worry”.

She whimpers, rutting herself against the ropes. I take off her breast band, laving her stiff peaks with attention. I received moans of appreciation for my efforts. I grabbed the blindfold from the table and tie it over her eyes. She whines at the loss of sight, but a kiss and well-placed tug at the rope between her legs silenced her. I remove her remaining small clothes move the rope aside, teasing her nether lips with my fingers. I’d occasionally flick her clit, much to her delight and frustration. For a moment, I left the bed to removes my leggings and small clothes, pleased to find an appendage that I could use. I grabbed the poison and the antidote. I took a little of the poison into my mouth, it would be lost in the moisture of my mouth and undetectable to her. Bringing her into a kiss, I encourage her tongue to explore my mouth, taking more of the poison with it. I repeat the action several times, using the time between nibbling on her flesh to take more poison from the bottle. When more than half of it had been used, I hid the bottles under the pillows behind us and rolled her on top of me. She made a squeak of surprise followed by a moan as she felt me press against her. She tried to wiggle and maneuver her way so that I’d be inside her. I finally relented and sent my hips up.

The way my body reacted was unusual, but not unpleasant. I canted my hips up and few times, much to her pleasure before leaning back into the pillows “Take a ride for me darling. This is what you’ve been waiting for isn’t it?” she doesn’t need to be told twice and seeks to take her pleasure from me.

As I feel her hips begin to stutter, I take the remaining poison into my mouth and bring her into a kiss as her dripping cunt shivers around me. She hardly realizes she’s swallowing as her orgasm is prolonged with a few minor thrusts on my part. She shivers, leaning into my chest. I take off her blindfold and slowly begin undoing her bindings. I whisper sweet nothings of how well she did as the exhaustion of the night’s activities took over.

***Safe to read ahead***

I put my leggings back on once I have the target tucked away in her bed. She’s still conscious, but in a state of recovery. Far be it from me if rumor goes around of me being a terrible dom. I manage to find a bell with a rope attached. I roll my eyes at the absurdity but ring it none the less.

It’s not long before I servant open the door, the look on his face utterly terrified. In a hushed tone I address him “Calm down. It’s just me, you’re not gonna get wrapped up in her games tonight. I just need you to bring me some water and perhaps a few more blankets”.

He nods and quickly retrieves what I ask for. “Thank you. Does she prefer her partners to leave before sunrise or does she like them to remain?” He looks between me and his evidently exhausted mistress “She usually sends them home once she’s done with them”. I nod, taking the water and blankets from him and shutting the door.

She looked a little more lucid than before as I wrapped her in more blankets and encouraged her to drink some water. Roule give me an appreciative smile “Thank you. I have yet to have anyone do this after I’ve allowed them to dominate me”.

I kiss the top of her head and retrieve the antidote as well as the empty poison bottle from behind her “Then you’ve chosen your people poorly. Aftercare should be a standard”.

She frowns in shame “I seem to have neglected in that area. It’s no wonder I must buy someone new each time. You’ve managed to thoroughly satisfy me this evening. Let your master know that you have my praise. Have one of the servants make you a light snack and you’re free to leave. I hope to see you at the auctions again soon”.

I smile and give a bow “Of course, you are too generous my lady. I’ll see to it that she receives word of your praise”. I pick up my cardigan and see myself out.

I find my way down to the kitchens, unnoticed by the servants. I’ts all too easy to rummage through the wine cellar as I down the antidote. Theres a nice bottle of Hissing Drake, some high-quality bourbon as well as the coveted bottles of Rowan Rose and White seleny for Dorian. I leave out the front door carrying a small satchel to carry the alcohol and food for the road. It took me about an hour to get back to the inn considering its distance away from the manor.

My walk was blissfully undisturbed and getting to my room was not an issue. I check over all my belongings, ensuring that nothing had been stolen. Satisfied, I shrugged out of my cardigan and took off the choker. Once again, the transformative magic tried its best to cling to my person. It lasted a little longer than the last time I removed it, but more than likely it was due to the extended time I had worn it before. About a minute later and my body returned to normal. Putting the alcohol into my pack, I snacked on some jerky before settling into bed. It was no where near as comfortable as the one back in Skyhold, but I knew I’d fall asleep regardless.

I woke up to the sound of knocking on my door. I groaned and sat up in bed “Enter”. I was getting tired of seeing elvish serving girls, but none the less one was in my room “I’ve been instructed to have a bath made ready for you. The water’s still hot sir”.

I yawn, standing up into a stretch. Grabbing my pack, I gesture for her to lead the way. She does so, her cheeks lightly dusted in a blush. A few doors down, she leads me into a room with a bath, a chair and some lightly fragranced soaps. She set down a towel “I can help you wash if you like sir”.

I shrug “Only if you want to. Enough with the sir nonsense, no one will hear you slip out of your station here”. I take a look in the mirror, my lip stain had smeared, I looked utterly debauched. She turns around and waits, likely for me to get beneath the steaming water of the tub. Once I’m in, I give a sigh and untie my hair from its braid. The elf chose that time to dump a bucket over my head. Getting the hair out of my face I see a playful elf.

I chuckle “At least one of you has some spunk left. Don’t let them beat that out of you if you can help it”. She nods and sets about washing my hair with a pine scented soap. The feel of her nails in my scalp elicits a purr from my chest, a sound I hadn’t realized elves could make. I take one of the cloths from the side of the tub and use it to wipe my face clean. It becomes stained with red and the barest hint of black.

Solas wasn’t lying about the paint sinking in it seemed. With my hair washed, I set about washing my arms and chest while the unnamed elf ran then cloth across my back a few times. “What’s the best hair style for me to fit in around here?”

She hums “If we put it in a bun and put some light make up over those marks on your face, I’d say you could pass for a human. It’d making walking around easier for you. They don’t like too many elves walking around unless it’s near the camps or they have written word from their master on a task they’re fulfilling”.

I gave a hum of approval “If you’d be willing to do that, I’d be willing to part with some gold”. She leaves the room for a moment. I take the chance to get into my armor and start towel drying my hair. She returns with some cosmetics and a red ribbon. I give her 50 gold. It was a sizeable chunk but wouldn’t really be missed from Josephine’s payment.

Her eyes go wide as I hand her the small pouch of coin “For what I’m helping you with, this seems a bit much”.

I shrug “Having a decent chance of walking around freely? Take the gold, and I keep enough of your foundation to keep these covered for a week”.

She accepts those terms as far more reasonable an exchange. And hands me a brush. I get the snarls out and pass it back. My hair wasn’t completely dry, but workable nonetheless as she pulls and twists it into a low bun. The length of my hair was enough to compensate and hid both the shaved sides of my head and the points of my ears. She then worked some magic with her cosmetics, shaping my face to appear fuller while covering the lingering paint.

My disguise was set, and I gave a nod of thanks “I appreciate your help. Stay lively”. She smiles and departs with her things much richer than she was before.

I return to my room to find a light breakfast. After I consumed it, I grabbed the nicely enchanted, but plain looking, satchel I’d stolen from Roule’s manor and the list Solas had given me. He was on the market for new brushes, a few different colors of paint, various herbs, a couple different types of metal, and lastly the few titles of books. I made my own mental list, mostly including a visit to the tailor for a few more sets of trousers and shirts and some other types of tea. Perhaps I might surprise Solas with something sweet.

I roamed the streets without a care. Better not to act as if I shouldn’t be about. I looked in the windows of various shops, making a mental map of where to start and end my shopping. I started with the tailor, figuring that something that might take time to create should be done first. There was a gentleman with pins in his mouth working on regalia for a noble and a dainty little woman working on a dress for another. There were premade clothes of various sizes, so I inspected them to get an idea for what I’d be wearing.

“You there!” I look up for a moment to see the tailor man had left his workstation. “Yes?” The man is all smiles “Sorry my boy, I hadn’t heard the bell. I daresay you’re one of the finest specimens I’ve seen to walk through these doors yet”.

I laugh “You flatter me. I’m in the market for casual attire. If you have the time, I’d like a few different outfits made. I won’t need them today, but I will be leaving back to my station in Fereldan in a week. They just don’t know how to live outside of armor over there”.

The man laughs “You’re too right. Tell you what, go talk to my wife and have her draw some designs up for you while you pick through some fabrics. That should give me some time to finish this bastard’s costume”.

I nod and approach the woman who had just finished a dress, folding it delicately and placing it into a bag. “Alrighty then dear, I heard what my husband said. What type of outfits are you looking for?”

I give her a light smile “I’d like a few sleeveless tunics, I’m not finicky with designs so I’ll leave that to your creative mind. Trousers, they should be comfortable to move freely in and possibly sleep in if necessary”. I pause for a moment, both allowing me to think of other things while she roughly sketched on her pad. “Also perhaps some long-sleeved shirts, I do get sent to some pretty cold places.”

She nods along “I think we can work with that. Anything else particularly special?” I pause for a moment and ask to see the sketch pad. She hands it over along with her pencil. I move to a clean page and sketch out a sleeveless coat, it buttons at the lower torso with pockets in the breast and normal areas.

I pass it back and she looks intrigued “Can’t say I’ve made something like this. Looks like it would be a fun project. If we like the way it looks, do we have permission to use it for future costumers?”

I shrug “I don’t see why not. If you decide you enjoy the design, I’d take a discount on its cost for it to be yours”.

She nods “More than reasonable. Usually the ones that give us designs want a lion’s share of the earnings on future sales”.

I shrug “I think that’s hardly fair when the majority of the work is in your capable hands. I will say that I may want an armored version of it at a later date”. Setting the pad aside, she pulls out a ring of fabric swatches. I felt across the various fabrics, asking what colors they come in and so forth before settling on black and grey colored fabrics, namely cotton, lambswool, and linen. The coat was to be made from another material that she wouldn’t share with me, but I wasn’t pushy. By the time fabrics and designs were settled, the gentleman had finished his work enough to take measurements. With all my work out of the way, it was time for payment.

“This is a large order to be completed in a week, especially with our other customers”. I nod my head in understanding “I understand completely. Given the cost of components and time, would 200 gold be sufficient”.

The gentleman about chokes “Yes, yes, more than enough. Thank you”. I know that I was definitely going over the top with them, but I wanted to ensure that I had them before I leave. “100 now and the other 100 when I come to retrieve the order sound fair” I ask.

The wife nods and I set the bag of coins on the counter. She takes the gold with a smile “We’ll have your order ready in three days”. Her husband clearly wanted to say something, but a harsh glare kept him quiet. As I left it was clear that they were only of the smaller tailors in the city, so a big commission like mine came every once in a while.

I take my time in the bookshop, finding the titles that Solas requested at little cost as well as some other interesting titles. The shopkeep raised an eyebrow at my purchases but said nothing as I paid out the few silvers they cost. I put the wrapped tomes into my satchel before moving on. A spice shop caught my attention not long after.

This was where I managed to procure various blends of tea, including some of my favorites such as vanilla and green. The lass behind the counter was nice enough and with the amount I purchased, I kept the cost down to 1 gold. Yes, I bought that much tea. I decided to leave the rest of the shopping for the next day. I did need to be seen out and about as an elf more than in this disguise. I brought my shopping back into my room, transferring it to my travel pack and settling down for a snack of jerky as I wiped my face clean and re-braided my hair.

I changed into my mission’s outfit and decided on a stroll through town. Having proud ears and markings brought a few glares from nobles. I hold back rolling my eyes even as a city guard approaches “Oi knife-ear where’s your papers?” I raise an eyebrow “Hadn’t realized it was a crime to walk sir. I’ve just come from Lady Roule’s manor. I’m sure you know her tastes”.

This caused him to grumble out an apology and left me to my business. Speaking of the lady, here she was walking down the side of the street. She smiles as she sees me “Oh hello dear. I’m surprised you’re walking out and about. Very bold of you. Come, have a late lunch with me. Don’t worry about the help, they’ll know not to treat you poorly with me there”.

I give her a heartbreaking smile and follow her inside a little café. “Order what you like darling, my treat. Another reward as I’m sure your master doesn’t let you keep much of what we pay for your services”.

She was certainly brazen, speaking of her actions in public, but perhaps it wasn’t really a secret, just something that is universally known and thus not spoken of. I look over the menu and decide on rabbit with a rivani tea blend. She chuckles at my choice of food “Some contempt for the word rabbit I assume?”

I give her a grin “In regard to my person, most definitely”. We make idle small talk, enjoy our food and part ways like old friends, though I knew that she would fall dead, or perhaps ill then dead before too long. At the very least a public outing with her will prove we were friendly before that point. It should also grant me some leniency in walking around openly as an elf. Having spent a sufficient time out in the public, I retreated to the tavern to spend the rest of the evening nursing a stiff drink alone in my room.

I sigh, I really hadn’t wanted this to happen. I should have just told them no. There seemed to be no way to return and it seemed I’d need to accept that. At least I hadn’t gotten a new dog since Kiba had passed away a few months ago. I didn’t dare imagine how I would feel about this situation if I left a puppy all alone like this. Downing the last of my drink, I try to suppress the wave of sadness that all about consumed me. I shrug out of my clothes and into the only set of nightwear I owned. Sleep was hard to get to, but eventually I was pulled into the Fade.


	5. Mission Complete and back to Skyhold

Athras:

I found myself sitting in the same tavern room, although there was the spirit of a small little girl outlined in an icy blue. She was only here to feed from my despair, and I was content to let her take her fill. It seemed she knew this and left once she was satisfied. I was in no mood to explore and decided to move throw my tai chi stances in hopes of bringing my energy back to some semblance of peace. The room was a small space, but it worked well enough to accomplish what I needed it to. Feeling much more grounded, I was able to find some true rest without another disturbance from the Fade. Once again, I was pulled away from my peace by knocking. I pull myself out of bed “Enter”.

The same servant from before brings in a tray of breakfast, the smell of it enticing enough “Figured you’d need a decent breakfast after the drinking you did last night”.

I huff a laugh, only a minor ache in my skull any sort of indicator that I was hungover “You’re a sweet-heart”. It was decent breakfast, eggs, sausage, bread. The hangover cure meal to be sure. She leaves the room and I enjoy my food.

So on and on the day went, I left in my minimalist disguise and found another few shops to check things off mine and Solas’ list. Today was spent collecting a few new paint colors, new brushes, royal elfroot, spindle weed, and crystal grace. I doubled the order of herbs so that I’d have some of my own to work with.

That really only left the bloodstone, onyx, and serault infused glass on Solas’ list, though I don’t think he anticipates me returning with even half his items. I spent the requisite time out and about and did my usually stint back at the tavern. The next day was about the same before I heard the rumor going around that Lady Roule was ill. I could barely conceal my satisfaction at the news, though it wasn’t directed towards me.

I traveled a bit further into the city to find a decent smith to sell me the material Solas asked for. I added a few blank rune stones, bloodstone and obsidian to the order and left the smith with a much heavier satchel. He was the closest shop I had found to the alienage and I had no trouble making my way back to show my face as an elf to the town.

The following day was much the same, breakfast, and back out in disguise. My clothes should be ready to collect today, and news was spreading quickly of how Lady Roule is bedridden with a terrible fever. There is fear that she’ll spread an illness onto the rest of the nobles. I step inside the tailor’s shop to see the clearly tired but happy couple. Before they can get out any words, I set the remaining gold on the counter. I examined each article they pull from the bag, finding the material a much higher quality than I asked for, but I was no less pleased.

The four sleeveless tunics were either black or grey and made from darkened samite. The pants were made of lustrous cotton with two sets dyed black and the other two dyed red. The three long sleeve shirts were made of avar cotton and dyed black. I had no idea how they managed to find such a material here in Orelais. The coat they’ve managed to create was a stunning piece to be sure. It was black with the interior lining a stark red contrast. As it was explained, the interior was royal sea silk while the exterior was Avar twill. “You’ve both outdone yourselves, truly. Here’s an extra 50 gold”.

They accept the extra money with no fuss “It was a pleasure doing business with you. Should you have a need for more clothing, you can always send us a raven and we’d be happy to ship it to your station in Fereldan”. They pack away my purchases neatly and I leave them with a short bow. My coin purse was now significantly light, but I still had at least 200 gold to play around with.

The next evening was when I finally got the news I had been waiting for. Lady Roule was dead. Rumors about a plague and various secret illnesses hummed over the inn. There was nothing to be said about assassination or a potential poisoning. I allow myself an extra drink that night in celebration.

I spend two further days in Orelais, walking in the markets and collecting a few sweet treats before packing up to head out. The way back would be by a single horse left to me by my previous escort.

He handles the weight of my purchases well and we make our way back to Skyhold. As it stands, we both required rest after half a day’s travel. Securing him to a tree, I set up camp and get a fire started. Once that’s started, I take the saddle and weight off the poor creature followed by a good brushing down. He had settled nicely into the night, ate and drank what rations were packed with him too. I settle into my tent once the sun goes down, huddling into the furs. Eager as I was to get back, I couldn’t rush the horse any more than I had already.

I awoke with the dawn and dressed in the outfit of my assignment, not wanting to use my casual clothing on such a trip. There were no memories of my time in the Fade and perhaps I hadn’t slept deep enough to reach it.

Camp gets packed up as the horse enjoys some food and water. About an hour into the morning we were back on our way. I knew I’d reach Skyhold before nightfall if we didn’t encounter any problems. And no problems were encountered, for that I could be thankful.

I climbed off the back of the horse, leading him in past the gates as they opened. Taking my belongings from his back and giving him a couple pats on the neck, I let the stable hand take him.

I climbed up the stairs carefully as I was still sore from riding all day. I was thankfully ignored until I reached the rotunda. Solas was sitting at his desk, writing notes of some kind it looked like. He looks up as the door opens and gives me the barest hint of a smile “Athras, it seems you’ve returned in one piece”.

I set my pack and the satchel down and collapse onto the couch. Compared to horseback and the bed at the inn, it was like heaven. I hummed in content “One piece indeed”.

He chuckles although he is quick to turn serious “Last I checked, you did not bear the vallaslin of Mythal, and yet now I see its fading mark upon your face”.

I roll my eyes, but knew he’d ask about them “They’ll wash off with the rest of the paint. I needed them to appeal to my target. It was an assassination with a path of seduction after all. I was being sold to pleasure her for the evening”.

I don’t see him, but I can almost hear his affronted gaze “That’s what the spy master had you doing?”

I shrug “It’s not as if it’ll be a regular occurrence. Seduction isn’t my gig, I just had to look pretty enough to take home”.

He sighs, “I suppose we all have our jobs here with the Inquisition. Yours requires some…moral ambiguity I suppose. Tell me, why choose Mythal? Surely Falon’Din would have been a more appropriate choice.”

I laugh “I thought the same, but his markings are dreadfully ugly. Mythal’s suited my bone structure better”.

He snorts, clearly amused “Enough of business then, how did you find the markets?”

I give him a sly grin “Surprisingly enough, I didn’t have much trouble getting what I needed. An elf with an attitude gave me the idea and method to look like a decent human. Walked into any and every shop I needed without a slur, price gouging, or being thrown out.”

He raises an eyebrow “Truly? I underestimated your cunning”.

I shrug “It’s was only matter of using my hair to cover the points of my ears and a little cosmetic to warp my features a bit. Either way, these are for you”. Pulling all his ordered items out, I stood to set them down on his desk along with a little package of small cakes.

His eyebrows raised in shock “I hadn’t anticipated you clearing my list. **_My thanks_** ”. I was going to nod before being interrupted with a yawn.

With a light laugh, I pick up my things “I think that’s a sign I need to move along and rest a while”. He gives a hum of agreement as he sorts through his things.

I move up the stairs and find Dorian in the library. He closes his book upon seeing me “You look exhausted darling”.

I roll my eyes “Well I guess you don’t want the wine I managed to find in the cellar for you?” I don’t give him time to respond as I hand him the two bottles.

He looks impressed “I’m surprised you managed to find them. This will be much better with dinner than the common swill they serve”.

I give the mage a mock salute and head up another flight of stairs to debrief with Leliana. She pours over her reports as usual, looking up with a pleased expression. “Your mission was quite successful I hear. Lady Roule even sent her praise of you ahead. Very well done”. She accents her words with two decently sized bags of gold “One for the kill, the other is what she payed for you”.

I nod and drop them both into my pack “If its all the same to you. I’d prefer to be kept away from seduction. It’s far too exhausting to play nice. I’d much rather get in and get out”.

She nods “I’ll take that into consideration for your future assignments. In the meantime I’ll send someone with food to your room once you’ve had a chance to relax. You made it back in record time”. Giving her a nod, I make my escape back to my room.

I pack away my things, find a bottle of pine oil and a bar of soap. No doubt it was slipped into my things by the clever servant. I set off toward the bath house with a pair of black pants and a grey tunic. It was blissfully empty as I stripped down to nothing.

I was sorely tempted to burn the clothes made for the mission. It’d make for a casual outfit, but I didn’t need to be recognized by it. Perhaps a good dose of dye to change the colors. After washing the grime from the road away, I applied the oil to my hair and major scent points on my neck and wrists.

The sound of approaching chatter rushed me into my pants. I’d just pulled the tunic over my head when the Iron Bull and a few of his chargers entered. I recognized Krem, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember the others. “Spooks! Haven’t seen you around since you decided to put Viv in her place. Thought they hauled you off to the dungeons”.

I raise an eyebrow at the obvious lie “Clearly I’ve escaped. I got tired of counting the same brick pattern”.

He laughs “Fine. Keep your secrets”. I wrap my belongings in a ball and head back inside, the crisp mountain hair freezing against my wet skin. I shake my head a bit, in hopes my hair would dry. When it doesn’t work, I head back inside. I take the back way as it were, avoiding the major halls to get back to my room in the east wing.

It was easy enough to get back and I’m sitting with my back to the fireplace when my food arrives. It’s a male this time which was uncommon enough. Pointed ears were pointed ears in this world I supposed. He sees where I am and brings the tray more inside, shutting the door behind him. “There were rumors about while you were away. Telling of how the Inquisitor put you in the dungeons like the sorry rat you are. We all knew differently of course, but we wanted to let you know. To explain any extra staring if you’re seen walking about”.

I nod tossing my hair into a quick, messy top bun “So Bull’s words had some merit to them after all”. Rolling into a slow stand, I grab the last of the sweet cakes from the desk “Not sure if any of you are that into sweets, but they’re from Orelais. Share them, keep them all to yourself, don’t matter to me”.

He takes them hesitantly before giving me a bright smile “You’re too kind”. I hold back any remark as he leaves me to eat. A rather light meal this time, a flank steak of some kind, tea, and soup that smelled like chicken. The meat wasn’t anything familiar, but it tasted alright. Not like I’d care if whatever it was had a cute face.

I took a sip of my tea as the temperature dropped on my right side. “I’ll say I never anticipated my death” a familiar voice rasped.

I take another sip “I wasn’t sure if the dead could still follow me home. If it’s all the same to you, I didn’t have to go as far as I did. At least you knew some measure of satisfaction before the end”.

Lady Roule, reduced to a vague shadow, an apparition if that. She sighs “I suppose that gives me some manner of comfort. I should have known better than to cross the left hand of the Divine, especially in times like these.”

I snort in amusement “That you should have. She is certainly ruthless, but she needs to be. I trust you’ll be moving on now that you know the reason behind your death?”

She nods “I had little to live for to begin with. It’s been a pleasure”. With that the shadow fades and so too does the cold. A lot has changed, but much has stayed the same.


	6. Pride's Tea

Athras:

I had no idea I had fallen asleep until I felt the odd sensation of a tap against my shoulder. It wasn’t the same as a physical touch, but I could feel the intent behind it. I turned to find Solas, a slight smile on his face.

“I hadn’t realized I was in the Fade since I was only sitting by my fireplace. It appears the Fade has recreated that perfectly”.

He nods “Given your exhaustion, it was likely to happen. I’ve just recently went to sleep myself, so if its any consolation, you’ve not been bothered by any spirits”.

I snort “I doubt I’d be bothered by any such creature unless they want something. They can be very…needy I’ve begun to notice”.

He makes a face, a mix between curiosity and amusement “We didn’t get to speak much on your time in Orelais. If you’re up to it, we can continue where we left off?”

I manage to conjure a fur blanket to drape over me like a cloak, the vague feeling of fur against my skin a comfort as I settled in to speak of my mission. “As you know, and probably dislike, I was sold to my target for a night of passion. It was stressed to me that I only needed to go far enough for her to ingest the poison. I’ll not describe further lest I attract any beings of desire. Once that was done, I was to remain in the city until such a time as I heard of her untimely demise. Considering I didn’t have much in the way of clothes, and Montilyet paid rather well, I found a tailor to make some. I charmed them well enough as they took the designs and used higher quality materials than I asked for. I had plenty of time to peruse the shops and find the items on your list, plus whatever I was in the market for. I even managed to find some more favorable tea blends”.

His nose wrinkles and I laugh “I bet if you gave me some time, I could find a tea you’d actually like”.

He snorts, an expression most unbecoming, but suited his character who was bolder in the Fade “You could very well try. I detest the stuff”.

I roll my eyes “I said the same once upon a time, but then I found a blend that wasn’t half bad, then another and so on and so forth”.

He huffs and redirects the conversation “You mentioned masquerading as a human, most Dalish have too much pride to commit to such a deception”.

I shrug “It wasn’t even my idea. Recall the elf I mentioned earlier?”

He nods “You described them to be bold”.

Humming in my throat, I continue “A little servant she was. Had a playful attitude once I told her to drop the sir nonsense. I asked her a good way to wear my hair to fit in more. I was thinking of how the servants usually wear it. I could have faked a letter from my target easy enough. She had the supplies, even the red ribbon to hold my hair up. Gave her some gold for her trouble and that’s the end of that”.

Solas hums in thought “She could have been one of Sera’s people, the Red Jennies or little people as she likes to call them”.

I shrug “I wouldn’t have known or cared otherwise. No one questioned me, unless I was roaming about as the elf my target bought. I had a quick run in with a guard, but naming my target sent him on his way. My target even took me out to lunch, she’d not fallen ill from the poison just yet. I had a few drinks, got too caught up in the past. A little spirit of despair visited me that night. She was content to feed and leave me to try and make peace. I spent the next few days checking items off your list and listening for news of my target’s death. I stayed two days after the news to abstain me of any implication”.

His acceptance come in the form of a hum “Your days have been full to say the least. Though I’d like to go back to the spirit you encountered. Most people would have called it a demon. It fed from your emotions and you let it, why?”

I shrug “I have no reason not to. There’s hardly a difference between spirits and demons when you’re in the Fade. When they’ve crossed into our plane, they aren’t the same. They’re sense of being, their purpose is warped. Since I’ve ended up crossing into the Fade with purpose, I see no reason to be antagonistic towards them. They’ve done me no harm, so why would I do harm unto them?”

He smiles, still a small gesture and not nearly as bright as some “There are so few that would share your sentiments. I appreciate your insight”.

I fall onto my back, content with the warm sensation of the Fade fire “It’s a shame really. If there were others you wouldn’t have to keep company with the likes of me”.

I feel the pull of morning as I hear his parting words “Your company is worth keeping”.

Waking up was one of the worst things I could have done. Sleeping on stone did not do any wonders for my sore muscles. Pulling myself up from the ground, I endeavor to stretch out my stiff muscles. It was painful, but after several minutes of it spent on each portion of my body I was able to move without my body protesting each movement.

Back up on my feet, a meal was brought. The light of the sun indicated it was likely reaching mid-afternoon. Evidently I had slept a long time. I recognize this one as the female from the first night. Perhaps it would be better to learn their names at some point. “You’re finally awake. I can’t imagine you’re in good spirits considering you’ve been on the floor all night”.

I let out a short breath “You’d be right. I only just managed to stretch all that suffering out of my bones”.

She laughs and sets down the tray containing a larger carafe of hot water, an empty cup, a few cuts of meat and nothing more. I was content with that as the meat would no doubt curb my hunger much faster than anything else. The hot water was a shock, but it would be an opportunity to enjoy my own blends. I dig around the satchel I kept my copious amount of tea in and pulled out one of the more floral tasting ones. It smelled most similar to earl grey, but I’m not sure if they called it that here.

My appetite having been satiated, I thought of what activities I could get away with. Training outdoors would be a bust since I’d no doubt be interrupted. I could go through my forms here; I’d done so in smaller spaces before. There was also Dorian and Solas should I require interaction with others. There was also the matter of the materials I collected. There was the vague whisperings of what was to be done with them.

Alas, none of that was to be done as a cloaked human steps into my room without so much as a hello. “Weapons. Armor. Come with me” he grumbled.

I raise an eyebrow but collect the requested items and my bag before following him. We stop halfway down the east wing. He moves a painting and presses a stone inward to reveal a secret passage. It’s quick to close behind us, leaving mostly darkness. I didn’t have much difficultly navigating, but I wondered how this human was doing it. The darkness breaks to reveal a large open space. The room is lit with torches and split into various areas. There were two cloaked individuals fighting with daggers, probably but not definitely blunted for sparring.

Another was on the other side of the room shooting at targets, moving by some means of magic. The back of the room was further split into a bar where a few were having drinks of various types while there was another cloaked individual weaving spells at other moving targets. “Welcome to the Crow’s Nest. Mistress Leliana made sure we’d have a space to train and relax away from the public eye. No servants know about this place so you bring your own food and drink if you’re down here to unwind” introduced said human.

I nodded, pleased to have access to such a space. He goes behind the bar and pulls out a pair of boots and an armor set similar to what the others themselves are wearing. I take it with a raised eyebrow. He answers the unspoken question “You’ll evidently see our faces more as time goes on, but Mistress Leliana prefers we have some sort of uniform for the basic jobs. You won’t need to wear it down here unless you want to, most of us didn’t have a decent set of armor before coming into her employ.”

I take the uniform and put it in my bag. There was a changing blind at least, so I stepped behind it. The familiar texture of my armor felt like going home, an odd sensation given I hadn’t worn such things before. It was a good feeling to have.

I hung my bag up as I strapped my sword and dagger into their place, putting my various knives in their nooks. For the most part, I was largely ignored as I stood a few feet from the archer. She gives me a sideways glance before resuming her own practice. I pull a knife from under my ribs, turning it over in my hands. The body I possessed had muscle memory of how I needed to act and the vague whispers of calculating trajectory of moving targets was a little disorienting. Taking a steadying breath, I threw the weapon towards its target. Not a bullseye by any means. A blow more meant to maim or perhaps slow a target vs a kill. On and on it went as I worked with my aim. Each shot was better than the last, achieving more centered targets by the time I ran out of knives.

I’d built up a little sweat, as the force it took to drive these knives was more taxing than I imagined. Retrieving my knives, I was tapped on the shoulder. A bad time to do so as the individual had a knife at their throat in an instant “Yeesh you’re fast. I just noticed your sword and thought you’d like a spar? I’m the only one that uses them here. Everyone else likes their daggers and bows”.

He’s an elf from the looks of things, a city elf if his missing vallaslin were anything to go by. I put the knife away with a laugh “If I wasn’t quick, I could very well be dead. Sure, we can go a few rounds. We using blunts or just what we have on hand?”

He laughs too as we walk towards the sparing section of the room “We have a couple blunt ones pilfered from Cullen’s boys. Can’t say I like using them though, the flow isn’t the same”.

I nodded along and pulled my own sword from my hip. It felt like on odd combination of a katana and a one-handed weapon of sorts. I could use it as either or my mind supplied as we stepped into the ring. His grin turns feral as he pulls his own sword from his waist “Nothing too damaging and nothing below the belt sound fair?”

I nod and ready myself for a skirmish. We circle one another for a few seconds before I grew bored, launching a few testing blows. His blocks were clean, as were his counter strikes which I dodged nicely. He laughed as I threw in some unarmed combat, kicking at his elbow “I’d be careful with that one, someone notices it and you might lose a leg”.

I parry his next strike and elbow into his collarbone “I’d have kicked out your leg first, but we made rules”. By the end, there was really no declared winner, that’s not what the spar was about. We were sweating profusely, cut up in a couple places but not too worse for wear. This was an opportunity for both of us to see where our weaknesses were and to correct them before an enemy could use them.

Many people would think that we are of equal skill because no winner was found, but neither of us were intending to kill the other and thus no winner would be found. So is the difference between an assassin and a solider. As we put our weapons away, my sparring partner held out his arm “Doshiel”. I take his forearm in my grasp as he does the same “Athras”.

I leave the Crow’s Nest and put most of my weapons away, leaving a couple of knives hidden on my person as I decide to visit the sick bay. It was busy as usual. One solider was already dead. Eyes and mouth gapping open and blood still dripping into her eyes. I sigh and step forward, finding a clean cloth and water to put her into rights. She had been ignored the moment she ceased to breathe and that was something I couldn’t accept.

I stem the bleeding from the wound on her head and get her eyes and mouth to close. Her body is still warm, which told me that rigor would fix it closed soon enough. As I clean the blood from her hair, I hear the familiar acrid tone of the circle mage bitch. “She’s dead now child. Do not waste your time on her when you could be helping the living”.

I get the last blood out of her hair, revealing it to be a bright auburn underneath “I’ll remember that when they find your corpse. You might as well say goodbye to any hope of maintaining your dignity in death”.

She makes an affronted noise “You dare threaten me!” I turn and see that she is carrying her staff today.

I have to laugh, the sound at least low enough not to disturb the sick and those healing them “Feeling confident now that we have our crutch are we? I have little time for you to restore your bruised ego”.

Turning back to the deceased, I set about closing her remaining wounds manually with needle and string. Odd that it suddenly appeared, but I assumed Cole must be responsible. I felt the build-up of energy when I heard the unmistakable words “Forget”.

In that moment Vivienne turns and leaves, looking dazed and Cole is crouch in front of me “She was about to do a bad thing. You damaged her pride and that was unacceptable. If she could get you to attack her again, she could show you your place. I don’t like her”.

I give the spirit a soft smile as I continue my work “That makes at least two of us. There are others here that share that sentiment. How much did this one suffer if you don’t mind my asking”.

He fidgets for a moment and pulls out a bloodied dagger “Not for as long as she would have”.

I take the dagger and clean it before handing it back to him, hilt first “You were able to give her a quick death. She wouldn’t begrudge you for it”.

He smiles “I don’t think I said before. There was no time. My name is Cole. I’ve heard whispers about you”. He helps me get her wrapped into a sheet as I take note of her identification.

“You’ll likely hear many more. Athras is my name if you hadn’t heard it yet”. He nods, the air about him peaceful “I had only heard it once, from the Inquisitor. She’s loud. Bull likes to call you the manipulative hermit with his chargers.”

I chuckle “He hasn’t let that one go yet? Thank you for easing this one’s suffering. I know there are many who wouldn’t appreciate what you do for them. They’re selfish and would sooner a man live a longer more painful life than leave this world in peace”.

He smiles and heads back towards the tavern. It was odd seeing him walk, perhaps it’s because he didn’t make me forget his leaving. It seems I am making fast friends with my favored characters.

I take the young woman to the registry, giving the man her number. He shakes his head, regret in his eyes, no doubt she had people that would miss her. I didn’t stay, knowing that she would be taken care of from there.

By now, the sun was beginning to set, the smell of dinner and the sound of laughter coming from the mess hall was all I needed to know to avoid the mess hall. I climb the stairs and find my way to the rotunda. Solas is gone, likely enjoying dinner with the rest of the inner circle. I leave a note in the latest book he’s marked, asking him to come to my rooms at earliest convenience should he have a want to try something new in this stagnant stronghold.

Satisfied, I took the back ways to my room. A servant was just leaving it with a tray, but they were quick to bring the food back to the room upon my arrival. I ask that she brings me a second cup for tea and another carafe of hot water. She nods and I enjoy my food like the rest of the castle.

About an hour or so later, long after I had my second cup and the carafe delivered, the door to my room creaked open. Solas steps inside with a quirked eyebrow and my note held between his fingers “I hope this note is not as scandalous as it sounds”.

I laugh and clear away my desk just so the tray with the cups and the carafe of thankfully still hot water “I’m sure you’ll think its scandalous that I’m going to try and find you a tea that you’ll enjoy”.

His nose scrunches up in distaste, but his eyes show a curiosity that tells me he’s willing enough to play my games “I have doubts you understand. But I imagine it is better than enduring the noise out there. I couldn’t concentrate on my book let alone paint with idiots acting as though the hall is a tavern”.

I gesture for him to take the chair at the desk as I go through my collection, smelling various blends until I picked a selection that might be palatable to the elf. Thus far, I knew he enjoyed sweet things and likely didn’t enjoy anything bitter. In the end I choose a green tea with raspberry, a black tea infused with vanilla, Honeybush tea infused with blackberry, and an herbal passionfruit and lemon tea. These would be some heavy hitters that I would hopefully catch him liking at least one of.

We could work on expanding that palate once I found one that suited him. For a bit of fun, I hoped to blindfold him and thus I pulled out a stray cloth that would do the job. He raises an eyebrow, asking for an explanation without words. “With your permission. I’d like to blindfold you. Without your sight. I would have you smell the blends I’ve selected to see if there are any you are immediately opposed to or if there is one that appeals to you more”.

There was interest and debate in his eyes “I will say this is beginning to be as scandalous as it sounded, however I am interested to see what you think I would like. Very well. You may proceed”.

I grin and go behind him to make sure it’s tied properly “If it was what the note made it out to be. I’d at least make sure you had a safe word”. He about chokes on a laugh and though I can’t see his eyes, the rest of his face has a playful yet stern look to it. I laugh “I feel properly admonished”.

He huffs, almost like a pout, but I wasn’t sure considering it didn’t seem to suite his character too much. I pull the vanilla black tea out first. While it has vanilla, I think this one may be a bit too bitter for him without sugar. Opening the loose-leaf bag, I hold it below his face “What do you think of this one. I won’t tell you the type, for now we’re going off of your senses of smell and taste”.

He hums in agreement and inhales. There is surprise on his face and intrigue “I’ll admit that scent is surprisingly pleasant, sweet smelling even”.

I smile even though he cannot see it “Alright. What about this one” I swap the blends for the herbal passionfruit.

Much less reluctant, he does as he’s told, expression thoughtful “Floral with a hint of citrus. Not unpleasant, but I preferred the first”.

The only indication that I had heard his words was a sound in my throat. Next is the raspberry green, a personal favorite of mine “And this one?”

He takes a few inhales of the scent before responding “Its light with the barest hint of fruit. Very neutral all things considered”.

Last was the Honeybush and what I hoped would win him over given how sweet it was “Last one for the night”.

He inhales and theres a pleased expression on his face “Sweet, far more than the first one, there is also something more to it that I can’t quite discern”.

He goes to remove the blindfold. “I’d hold off on that. I’d much rather you taste them without your eyes”. He sighs but relents and keeps it on.

“I’m sure you’d like to start with the last one you smelled, but I think we’ll save that for last. It could ruin the other blends for you.” I prepare the raspberry green first, careful to avoid over steeping it. I direct his hand towards the cup and leave him to try it. His nose wrinkles, less than pleased but willing to try all the same. He takes a small sip, the wrinkling in his nose flattening in curiosity. I can barely contain my excitement when he takes another.

He sets the cup down “I must admit that this one isn’t the taste I typically associate with tea. It is not as bad as I anticipated. However, I don’t think I would drink this regularly”.

Still I smile “A great start on my path to victory, nonetheless”. I pour the remaining tea into my own cup to enjoy so it wouldn’t go to waste and prepare passionfruit lemon. “I’m not sure if you’ll like this one, it may be a tad sour to your tastes, but nothing honey, or sugar wouldn’t fix. I’d rather you try the blends as they are before adding other things to augment the taste”.

He hums in acknowledgment and waits for the cup to meet his hand. I finish the green in a few gulps as he takes a sip from it. Theres a slight frown in his expression “It seems you were correct. Sour would be the best way to describe this taste”.

I pour the rest into my cup and give him a small amount of water “Here’s a quick palate cleanser. Can’t have that blend ruining the rest”. After his palate was suitably cleansed, I made the vanilla black. Once again, I finish the last blend while he tastes the new one.

Theres no expression of outright rejection which was a bonus “There is vanilla in this, there is no mistaking that taste. Arguably decent but would no doubt be more palatable with sugar”. He actually finishes this cup which was nice at least. Now came time for the one that was sure to hit him.

“Last one. I think this one will be it for you if the last three were any indication”. I watch with interest as he takes the first sip.

He runs his tongue over his lips a moment and sighs “I must admit defeat and say that I evidently do not detest all teas. What is this exactly? We hardly have anything like this served here in Skyhold”.

I go and remove his blind fold “That would be a tea made from the flowers of honeybush infused with blackberries. Bear in mind it doesn’t keep one up at night like some others”.

Nodding, he takes another sip, savoring the taste before swallowing “I’ll admit this has been enlightening. I cannot remember the last time I’ve been introduced to something new. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll retire for the evening”.

I nod “I’m glad I could be the one to do you this service”. He leaves with a nod of his own. I grin even as he’s gone. It was no small feat to change the opinion of the Dread Wolf.


	7. All new, faded for her

Athras:

In the Fade, I found myself in a state of perpetual darkness. I didn’t mind in the least, essentially settling down to relax. A creature tinted in yellow crawled through the darkness, no doubt searching for fear. It chattered in distaste when none was found and skittered off. The darkness went with it and I found myself in forests I recognized from home.

I walk the familiar foot paths, almost hoping to hear the sound of Kiba rushing through the brush ahead of me. The Fade was utterly soundless and crushed any hope I had. Closing my eyes, I tried to focus the Fade to form into forest more suited to the Emerald Graves. I sigh in relief as I’m no longer surrounded in my memories of home. Instead, I hoped to relieve the memory of my fight with the great bears.

They were impressive creatures and even now I had a set of scars to add to the collection because of one wrong move. The last one I fought was a large male, no doubt the dominant one of the territory. With it in my sights, I moved through the motions to fight, losing myself in the sensations. The only change I made to the memory was dodging out of the way of its claws. I did not want to know what would happen should I be injured here. With the creature of my memory dead, I leaned against its side. Morbid yes but I was in no mood to conjure support of any kind. Closing my eyes, I intended to wait out my time before I was due to awaken. I knew it wasn’t meant to be when I heard a terrible scream, utterly blood curdling.

I shot up out of bed, shaken by the sound. It was heart wrenching. Deciding I would get no more sleep, I made myself one of the more caffeinated teas with the cool water left from earlier. It took longer to steep this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice. There was a loud bang and cursing outside my room. Concerned, I went to open the door. There Solas stood, pale as a sheet and panic in his eyes.

They connect with mine and I see a flicker of hope “Please….my friend…” He cannot form the words, but I already knew what had happened. I pull the shaken elf into my room, pulling the chair in front of the fireplace and wrapping one of my blankets around his shoulders. His eyes go blank as I sit him down.

I debated on giving him something to wake him up or calm his nerves. I opt for mint infused green tea, both of which are known to reduce stress. It would help keep him awake. I keep the carafe of water near the fire, slowly warming it up. Once it had warmed to my satisfaction, I prepared the whole carafe. I added a bit of sugar, figuring he probably wouldn’t like the blend without it. His eyes are still blank as I kneel in front of him. Putting the warmed cup into his hands, I lift them to his mouth. Out of habit, he takes a drink and swallows. I repeat this a few times before he’s drinking it of his own accord.

His eyes slowly come back into lucidity and he grimaces slightly “I do not care for this one”.

I put a hand on his leg in show of support “Be that as it may. It looked like you could use it. A mint infused green. It’ll keep you awake and hopefully calm your nerves enough to tell me about this friend of yours”.

There’s pain in his eyes “One of my oldest friends has been captured by mages, forced into slavery. I was shaken by their cries for help as I slept”. There was the dialogue options from the same quest, though I opted to be different “It seems we were awoken by the same thing. I heard its cries. I’m sorry Solas”.

He releases a shuddering breath, choking down more tea “It never wanted to come to our world. It was quite happy dwelling in the Fade. Seeking forgotten wisdom and reflecting on it. I don’t know what these mages want with it. They could be torturing it for information it doesn’t wish to give for all I know”.

Squeezing his leg, bringing him back to the present I caught his gaze “We’ll get your friend out of their hands. That I promise you. Get whatever supplies you think you’ll need, and I’ll meet you at the stables”. There’s relief in his gaze “ ** _Thank you_** ”. He finishes the last of the tea, setting the blanket on the chair before leaving to prepare for the journey.

I am unsure if he would have gone to Lavellan with this had I chosen to stay out of it, but I could not ignore those cries for help. The sooner we left for the Exalted Plains the better. It wasn’t an official mission, so I changed into my own armor, putting on my new sleeveless cloak for the first time as well. It would be of use until we got out of the mountains. I packed away a few tea blends, one for Solas in particular and a few others that would do me well on the road on top of my medical supplies, a different set of clothes, and my assassin uniform in case Leliana sent work ahead once she found out where I was. Strapping all my weapons to where I needed them, I grabbed my bag and readied to leave. I did make a quick stop to the kitchens, stealing some dried meat that would no doubt be necessary to ensure we didn’t need to waste time hunting or cooking.

Solas was packing up a horse when I arrived. He was in a set of robes, the outer layer a light grey while the inner layers were varying shades of blue. There was also a staff clinging to his back. I selected a horse of my own, having the manners to greet the poor thing before readying it for travel. Master Dennet would likely be displeased if I forgot the horse’s rations and I was quick to pilfer those from the barn. I nod when everything is prepared. It only takes a single cold look from Solas for the guards to open the gates and let us pass.

We set the horses at a brisk pace, mine following Solas’ as I had to pretend I didn’t know the way “Where is your friend Solas?” I ask once we are well out of the eyes and hears of Skyhold.

He keeps his eyes forward “The Exalted Plains was where I managed to find its presence last. From there we should be able to track the mages down and free it.” We travel through the night in purposeful silence and manage to reach the Exalted Plains by the afternoon of the next day. By then we are both hungry and exhausted.

I ride in front of Solas to stop him from moving forward “We’ll make camp and rest. We don’t know what we’re getting into and neither of us is ready for a fight. It’s just the two of us, we don’t have anyone else to protect our backs if we make a mistake”. He begrudgingly slows his horse and we find a place in the forest to make camp. We tie the horses up and give them their much-needed food and water. The place we chose was close to a stream, which worked out well for making a bit of tea. I passed a cup of honeybush to the weary elf along with some dried meat. He takes both with a grateful nod. I make myself a green variety, this one infused with lemon. Relatively fueled, I stretch out the stiffness of riding while Solas closes his eyes in silent meditation.

I assume for a mage this would be a quick substitute for sleep. It wouldn’t replace sleep and wasn’t a permanent solution, but in times like these it would work just fine. After stretching, I opt to move through some tai chi forms to restore me to good form. I could feel the static energy in the air and worked to direct that into my own stores. An hour of this and I was rearing to go, Solas looked to be the same.

We chose to leave the horses at our camp as we were close to the last known location of his friend. It’s not long before we find the first of the corpses. I sigh internally, of course no matter how quickly we arrived, once the spirit was corrupted against its purpose, there would be no restoring it. Mages with arrows and sword wounds to start. Then came the bodies of bandits, burned to a crisp or slashed with claw marks. “No, no, no no” Solas muttered and he was utterly taken aback when he finally caught sight of his friend. He growls in anger at the sight of it.

“I’m sorry Solas. The mages turned your friend into a demon”.

There’s sadness and rage even as he agrees “Yes”.

“You mentioned your friend cultivated wisdom. They must have forced it to do something so opposed to its nature that they corrupted it. Telling it to fight, or perhaps kill is likely what did this”.

There are soft footsteps to indicate the approach of the mage. Solas directs his ire towards him “Let us ask them”. The man dares to be relieved “A mage! You’re not with the bandits? Do you have any lyrium potions? Most of us are exhausted; we’ve been fighting that demon”. Solas growls “You summoned that demon! Except it was a spirit of wisdom at the time! You made it kill! You twisted it against its purpose!”

The mage stutters in fear, entirely confused as to why he was being assaulted like this “I, I, I understand how it might be confusing to someone who has not studies demons. But after you help us I can…”.

Solas is quick to cut the man off “We’re not here to help you”.

The mage looks to me desperately, as if I was say anything mildly reassuring “You are speaking to the wrong person human. My companion knows far more about the Fade and its creatures than the likes of you”.

The human scoffs “Listen to me! I was one of the foremost experts in the Kirkwall Circ…”

The angered elf levels a glare at the offending mage “Shut. Up. You summoned it. To protect you from the bandits”.

The mage relents “I…yes”. Solas lays into him once again “You bound it to obedience, then commanded it to kill. That is when it turned”. He turns to address me directly “The summoning circle. We break it, we break the binding. No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon”.

The mage stutters out excuses, begging us not to break the circle as it was the only thing keeping it contained. I lock eyes with Solas and gesture for us to head to the summoning circle. Swords and daggers would work to destroy the circle, but not nearly as effective as magic. Solas works on several stones and is distracted for the time. Closing my eyes, I reach out to my connection with death. It thrums and I feel the energy creeping beneath my skin. I push it out, directing it to what I could feel were the strong points of the circle. Within minutes, they are naught but dust in the wind. The demon had no time to try and hurt us within the circle and with our combined efforts, the spirit was free.

Solas crouches down in front of it and I turn my back to him, allowing him his private moment. Turning my attention to the mages, I let the last dregs of my energy keep them from leaving the area. A strong compulsion on their very souls to stay and receive judgement for their crimes. Mages who have claim of knowledge in the Fade should know better.

Hearing no words, I return to Solas’ side. “You did everything you could to help it. I wish we had gotten here before it had been given such an order, perhaps things would have been different then”.

He sighs “It is no use wondering the about the what ifs, now I must endure”.

I give his shoulder a comforting squeeze “I’ll be here if you do not wish to endure alone”. He shutters beneath my hand, though I’m unsure if this is from raw emotion or just not having much physical contact. I would not count the brush of hands or even my hand on his knee as he was much too concerned with other matters.

“You’ve already done so much. All that remains now is them”. The mages move closer, aiming to thank Solas as if he had done some great deed, guiding his friend into death. “You tortured and killed my friend!” he growls, stalking towards the group of them. The ring-leader makes pitiful excuses on their behalf and I do nothing to stop the elf from having his vengeance. The mages are blown away and killed with a blast of Fade energy and fire. “Damn them all” he says, anger and sadness perpetuating his words. He looks back to where I stand “I need some time alone”.

I nod “Return to camp when you’re ready. I see no need for you to suffer through this on your own”. He opens his mouth to protest, but I leave no room for argument as I head back to camp myself. On the way, I manage to run into a scout with the Inquisition. This way, I was able to get a message out to Leliana. I didn’t go into detail, only saying I had helped Solas rescue his friend from a group of mages. If she had work for me, she would need to send it with a scout and rations. Having taken care of that. I intended to hunt down a decent meal for myself and possibly Solas, though I doubted I’d see much of him tonight.

Solas

I found myself a quiet, safe place to sleep. It was remarkably easy to slip into the Fade after the long journey, dismantling the summoning circle, and avenging the loss of wisdom. I traveled through the depths, finding the place we used to talk. There was hope that it would be there as always, greeting him in elvhen.

Alas, the space was empty. Though there was a spark. Perhaps, given enough nurturing and strength, another spirit of wisdom would form there. I had so few friends, even the loss of one of them threatened to send me into the pits of despair. Looking around, I did notice a few such creatures, tinting in pale blue. I could not stay long if I wished to remain hidden. Despair would be attracted to my presence here.

I look to the little wisp that remained of its energy, seeing the flash of Athras’ face for just a moment. I had intended for him to return to Skyhold, but he didn’t give me the time to say as much. My thoughts went back to Dorian’s words ‘He’s sort of a gentle soul isn’t he?’ While I wouldn’t agree, there was something different about him. We’ve spoken some, and dare I say that he’s the closest thing I have to a friend that exists outside the Fade. ‘Return when you’re ready. I see no need for you to suffer’ he had said. With a last look around the little alcove where my friend had been, I woke up.

The sun was bright, harsh against my eyes even. It took a moment for me to get my barring. My thoughts went to the Inquisitor. She would no doubt know that I was gone. I wondered if I had gone to her with this, if she would have moved to save my friend so quickly. Athras didn’t even insist we wait til dawn. He was quick in his resolution to help me. Would it have been just the two of us or would Lavellan had brought other members of her circle with us. Would she have stopped me from killing the mages? Would she have insisted it was better to kill the demon than to break the circle? These are answers I did not have and likely would never obtain. Yet I was content with that, because I didn’t need the Inquisition’s resources to help in the end.

Finding camp took a few hours more and I caught sight of Athras carrying a halla across his shoulders. He was shirtless, likely to avoid soaking his armor in the creature’s blood. I didn’t think that he would have targeted such a creature for food considering how well he knew of the Dalish in these parts. Stepping into our improvised camp, I watched him take the creature a bit further from the camp, gutting it and harvesting the useable parts of the beast with ease. He brings most of the meat back to the fire, cutting it into smaller pieces and skewering them onto a stray branch. His hands are caked in blood and stray splatters found their way across his face and chest.

Even with my presence clear as day, he didn’t say a word. He didn’t even bother to wash the blood away before preparing food and drink. I found it to be strange. Most would ask questions, express words of sympathy, something. I decide I do not mind his quiet presence. He offers one of skewers of meat. I open my mouth to decline, not really finding it in myself to eat. There’s a sternness to his gaze, daring me to say no. “No, thank you”. The first words I said to him since returning from the Fade.

He sighs “You may not want it, but you need it. Your friend would not want you to go hungry on their account”.

Reluctantly, I take the offered food “Most people would have asked more questions. Offered a few kind words of sympathy”.

He takes a bite of his own food, setting a cup of what I could only guess was tea in front of my crossed legs. “I consider sympathetic words to be insulting and I do not need to know where you were or what you did as that is your business”.

I raise an eyebrow, grief momentarily put aside to see how his view was formed “How is sympathy insulting. I have yet to hear the two words used in relation to each other”.

He drinks deeply from his own cup before responding “Tell me, how does it feel for me to tell you I feel sorry for you? It isn’t reassuring or comforting is it? Sympathy creates a plane of superiority and inferiority. If I were to offer condolences to your loss, it would be done with empathy. I see the world from your view and understand your feelings. It’s okay to feel hurt, anger, despair”.

His words struck a cord with me and I found nothing but truth behind them. Still, where did a self-proclaimed recluse learn such wisdoms. “How could a recluse such as yourself understand loss?”

I hadn’t realized Athras had a glint to his eyes until the moment it dulled “I wasn’t always alone”. He stands, grabbing a stray knife from where he had sat “Finish eating, drink that tea before it cools too much. Chamomile and rose. Mostly tastes like it smells, not really bitter”.

I watch as he stalks over to the halla carcass, tying its limbs and carrying it over his shoulder as if it wasn’t coating his skin in blood. His back disappears into the sea of trees as the last bits of daylight fade. I take a sip of the tea left for me. It wasn’t too abhorrent and something about it soothed the tension I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying in my muscles. Before too long, I was feeling tired enough to sleep. My usual wards of protection were cast and a few logs that Athras must have stacked near the fire were added to keep it going. It had been hours since he left and it was getting harder to stay awake. I sigh, knowing I couldn’t keep watching for his return.


	8. Dreams and Questions

Solas:

Before my eyes open, I hear sounds of movement around the camp. A gentle humming and crackling fire. Stepping out of the tent, I see that Athras has returned. He’s no longer coated in blood and wearing a black sleeveless tunic with a red pair of loose pants. His feet are bare, though he seems to ignore the pine needles pricking at his toes. More surprising was the raven sitting perched on his shoulder as he moved about the camp. The creature croaks nipping at his ear. He replicates the sound deep in his throat and gives the creature a chunk of meat he had been handling. It croons, pleased with receiving food. Bringing an arm up, he gets the creature to step onto his arm and then onto a nearby branch. As he turned, I could see that Athras was clearly exhausted, dark shadows forming under his eyes. Before I have a chance to speak, there is food and drink placed in hands. I sigh and go to sit near the fire “Have you slept at all?” I find myself asking.

He perches himself up on a stone, from the tracks in the ground, he must have moved it here “No”.

I raise an eyebrow “I did not think you would travel so far to dispose of a carcass”.

He laughs, the sound far from jovial “I did more than that. Leliana sends her regards by the way. Said for you to take as long as you needed”.

It explained things without really explaining them “Ah, the raven is hers then”. Once again I was met with a negatory answer “No, he’s been following me for most of the morning. I imagine he saw me carrying the carcass. The wolves got to it pretty quick. The scouts are quicker than I anticipated at getting messages around. For leaving on such short notice and considering my location I was given the task of clearing out the ramparts. A punishment of sorts I suppose”.

The undead in the ramparts had been a problem posed to the Inquisition by Orlesian forces. Leliana must have been truly displeased if she sent Athras to clear them alone “I hope you have tended to any injuries. Wounds inflicted by the undead can be particularly prone to infection”.

He shrugs “I stopped the bleeding. Figured I’d take another look at them after some food and rest”.

I finish my assigned meal “I could look at them for you? It is after all on my account that you were punished with such a daunting task. They would never send one solider, so I would say that you have indeed earned the ire of the spymaster”.

He finishes the last of his tea, leaving the scraps of meat for the raven. He steps off the stone and takes off his tunic. There are several bandages wrapped around his torso with various spots tinged with dried blood. He unwraps them carefully so as not to pull at the wounds unnecessarily. I take this as acceptance of my help and move to inspect the wounds more closely. There were a few deeper cuts near his ribs and some minor scraps towards his back “I can’t imagine your armor is in great condition considering the damage here”.

He huffs “I was wearing my uniform. It’s not designed to protect. Just make us assassins look the same. You’d be right though. The chest piece has major tears in it. Most of this is from the arcane horror that called the dead from their rest. Its claws were rather sharp, but arguably less dangerous than its magic”. He hisses as I prod at a particularly sore spot “I have supplies if they would be of use to you” he growls.

I take my hands away “If you are opposed to me using magic on your person then they would be”.

He raises an eyebrow “Have I lead you to believe that I have something against mages?”

I think back on our conversations and find no particular inclination aside from his encounter with Vivienne “No, you have not. Your dislike of Vivienne centers around her as a person, not the fact that she has magic”. The amount of magic required to close his wounds was rather small and wouldn’t need my staff. My hands hover over his skin, glowing a soft green as I heal the damage. There is nothing but dried blood and scars left as the magic leaves my hands.

He inspects the wounds he has immediate access to, nodding in satisfaction “ ** _My thanks_**. After the night that I’ve had, I think I’ve earned a nap. Do what you will as long as you’re not planning to go galivanting into fights with demons or bandits. I do not doubt that you could handle yourself, but now isn’t the time for violence. There will be plenty of that once we get back to Skyhold, so try to relax okay?” His concern was endearing in its own way and wasn’t overbearing like others tended to be with their worries. Athras didn’t bother waiting for me to agree or disagree as he disappeared into his tent. The raven that apparently has grown attached to him flew to one of the trees above his tent and tucked its head in to sleep itself.

I had little interest in doing anything more than visiting the Fade. Sleep was a far-away concept, but I could still travel in the immediate area with meditation. I set up on alert ward, to make sure I knew if anything wandered within a certain distance of the camp before settling down on my knees, feet tucked underneath. Focus and deep breathes soon saw me in the Fade, though it seemed as though I stepped into Athras’ dreams. We were in a forest, the likes I couldn’t recall seeing anywhere. I heard the sound of singing and followed it. The forest broke away into a series of small lakes, broken apart by sections of clearing. The time of day shifted from day into a persistent dusk Athras stood near the edge of the water, what appeared to be a small black wolf sitting next to him. There was a fishing rod in his hands, though I could barely make out where the line disappeared to in the water from this distance. His hair was much shorter and wasn’t pulled into a braid. Rather is was short enough to be swept up and back to keep it away from his face. The words of the song were clearer now that I was closer, though I would keep my distance to leave his dream undisturbed.

“Oh, this is the night, it's a beautiful night. And we call it bella notte. Look at the skies, they have stars in their eyes. On this lovely bella note. Side by side with your loved one. You'll find enchantment here. The night will weave its magic spell. When the one you love is near. Oh, this is the night and the heavens are right. On this lovely bella notte.”

It was an odd combination of common and some twisted form of Orlesian. As the song ended, the glint of line tugged harshly. The tune was cut off as he pulled the rod up in a harsh flick. The wolf stood up in excitement, tail wagging fiercely. He successful pulls the fish out to the water, the wolf jumping on him with a bark. He scratches the creature on the head, a smile evident on his face before taking the fish off the hook. Instead of putting it on a gill line or even a bucket, he lets the creature go. The wolf puts its front paws in the water, as if it meant to chase after it. “I’ll give you the next one, I promise” he says, rubbing it behind the ears.

The wolf seemed to understand his words and sat back down as Athras checked the bait before casting again, mindful of where the wolf was at. I could say I had met no elf in this time that would keep such a creature as a companion, my moniker sullying the creature forever. He crouches down, humming the song he had sung before, fingers lightly tugging on the line as if to entice something I couldn’t see. It was moments later that he was bringing another fish inland. As promised, he took it from the hook and offered it to the wolf. It took the wiggling creature, dropping it as its struggles became more pronounce. Athras laughs, watching the wolf jump and play with the struggling creature, tapping it with its paws and nipping at it once or twice. Once the creature dies from lack of oxygen, the wolf begins to eat it.

The scene shifts slightly, Athras away from the lake, wolf and elf sitting next to a fire with a tent nearby. The wolf has its head in his lap, eyes closed in rest as Athras drinks deeply from his cup. His expression a clear grimace that fades into a soothed expression. The wolf opens its eyes, licking at its companion’s hand.

The frown that marred his face softens to a small smile “You’re such a good girl”. He runs a hand through the fur of her head. The motion took the tension out of the elf, even as he took another sip from his cup. He hums a little and sings softly, the fire crackling.

“I'm tired of being what you want me to be. Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface. I don't know what you're expecting of me. Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes. Every step that I take is another mistake to you. I've become so numb, I can't feel you there. Become so tired, so much more aware. By becoming this all I want to do. Is be more like me and be less like you. Can't you see that you're smothering me? Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control. 'Cause everything that you thought I would be. Has fallen apart right in front of you. Every step that I take is another mistake to you. And every second I waste is more than I can take”.

He sighs, scratching under the she-wolf’s chin as a means to be freed from her weight. “Let’s see if we can’t call to our friends eh?” He raises his hands to his mouth and let loose a deep, mournful howl. His companion is quick to join in, the sound different and containing much more barks in between. As they both ran out of air, the silence of the forest was quickly filled with howls from every which direction. Athras grins, wrapping an arm around his companion, who nuzzled under his chin, pushing up as if to return the gesture.

The dream fades out for a moment, before changing to a new scene. I watched him walk along common foot paths. He was alone this time. I follow at a distance, eager to see what this dream would hold. Theres a blur, as if the memory itself is foggy up until a point of clarity. Along the trail, theres a mass of grey fur, movement the only indication that it was alive.

As Athras approached, he softened his steps. His hair was a bit longer in this dream, pulled up loosely to keep it out of his face. Even with quiet steps the animal heard him and turned its head and stood up on shaky legs, one of which was stuck in a metal trap. The elf crouches down, shushing the creature as he gets down to its level. It was a wolf, this one much larger than the companion from the previous dream. “Easy Ma’iingan” he told it; his words soft as he tried to appear as non-threatening as possible.

The creature bared its teeth but did not have the strength to remain standing. Once again, the dream blurs, only to come back into focus. Athras had brought the creature water, sliding a dented stone over carefully. The wolf was wary, its eyes never leaving the elf as it drank. With the water gone, Athras slid a rabbit into its reach. There was a portion of its fur that was cut and bloody, an easy access point so the wolf wouldn’t need to put too much effort into eating. In that moment, Athras was forgotten. Once it had eaten its fill, it leveled Athras with a stare. He moved from a crouch to laying down position, one that made him vulnerable to the wolf should it decide to hurt him.

I didn’t understand why he would put himself within striking distance of such a dangerous creature. It was injured and might as well be cornered. It was a recipe for disaster on the elf’s part. Slowly, Athras reaches towards its flank. It bares its teeth, but there’s no growl behind it. Still, he continues forward until he has a hand resting there. Slowly, its lips fell over his teeth as it came to realize that the touch didn’t hurt. Having that small success, he moved to put his hands on the trap. The elf turned his gaze away from the creature, an act I thought to be foolish as the creature could turn and bite into his throat at any moment. With both hands on each end of the trap, he pushed down quickly, resetting it and thus releasing the creatures injured leg. It yelped in surprise and leapt up.

I fully expected the creature to turn and attack him now that it was free. It did not. Instead it sat down and waited. “I hope you’ll let me look at that” he said in a gentle tone.

The beast didn’t move as Athras approached, on four limbs instead of two. With a light hand, he lifted the injured paw, lightly feeling around where the trap had been. He smiles and slowly leans back away from the injury “Good news Ma’iingan, you should heal just fine on your own”.

The wolf licks at Athras’ face, aiming mostly for the mouth. Athras allowed it, not even flinching away from his mouth being invaded by such a predator. Having given sufficient thanks, the creature took off into a light run back into the denser part of the forest.

The dream fades, now what I’ve come to realize is the passage of time. Athras is running, a braid flying behind him as it had clearly grown out over the years. He’s muttering various curses, and looking at what was behind him, I could see why. A very large black bear was giving chase. Making a harsh turn, he starts climbing into a tree. Just when I thought he might be safe, the bear started climbing up after him. A deep voice rumbled from nowhere “Howl you fool!”

Athras took little time to heed the voice’s command. The sound contained the plead for help as Athras climbed higher. Just when all hope for Athras was lost. A familiar face in the wolf he saved along with its pack. They jumped at the tree, nipping at the bears legs and hind. Realizing that this was far too much trouble, the bear descending and took off running. Athras breathes a sigh of relief and climbs down. “Chii Miigwech Ma’iingan”.

There he goes again with the strange words. I could have accepted calling the wolf a strange name, but the words before that were entirely foreign, not like anything I had experienced in the Fade before. The wolves are quick to disappear into the trees and everything fades away to nothing. He must be awake then.

I opened my eyes to find Athras looking utterly miserable. The dreams themselves were pleasant all things considered. Perhaps they were a painful reminder of the past.

He’s quick to mask his feelings as he notices my presence “I hadn’t dreamed like that in a while”.

I thought on how to best respond. I couldn’t let him know I had seen them. I could recognize this friendship for what it was, fragile. It likely wouldn’t survive such a blatant invasion of privacy. Instead, I asked “What do you dream of if you do not mind my asking”.

There’s a sad smile “Reliving old memories. Bittersweet to reflect on”.

Ah, so her companion is likely long gone from this world “The Inquisitor is usually the one to ask me of the dreams I encounter in the Fade. Ironic that I am asking another to describe theirs to me”.

He is silent for a time, likely determining whether or not he would indeed share the details of his dreams with me. I did not need them of course, but it was better for him to tell me, so that it would be open to discuss later. “I was fishing, one of my only friends was with me. She would sit along the shore as I caught them. I wouldn’t keep most of them. There was the simple enjoyment of the activity. I threw back one of decent size. She was disappointed that I threw it back, even had a mind to go in after it. She stayed dry only because I promised her the next one. She was so easily pleased by simple things. When it was too dark, we turned in for the night. I had some whiskey with me, to ease some of life’s sorrows. My friend wasn’t a drinker and was content to keep her head in my lap. When it got to be too much, she always knew when to pull me away from my own thoughts. That dream ended as she and I sang out to the skies, calling out to the creatures that hunted around us”. He described his memory beautifully, though not giving away that his friend was a wolf. There was a profound sadness as he recalled it, a shimmer in his eyes the only clue as to the unshed tears that lay there.

“You have wonderful memories together. Could you tell me more of these dreams?” My interest could hardly be questioned given my general fascination with the Fade.

He nods, a smile returning to his features “My dream shifted away from that memory. It was a time I freed a wolf from a trap”.

I raise an eyebrow “Surely you didn’t get out of this one unscathed?”

He rolls his eyes “Wolves are much more intelligent than you give them credit for. I gained his trust. Approaching him on his level, bringing him food and water before even attempting to get the trap of his leg”.

If he only knew “I will concede that point”.

He continues, a level of excitement in his retelling of it “Once I gained his trust, it was easy to free him and check the leg over. It gets interesting years later. I was in the same forest, looking for useful herbs when I got a little too close to a bear. It didn’t take too kindly to me and proceeded to chase me through the forest. That was not the day to be out without a weapon it seemed. I learned to never leave home without one after that. It chased me up a tree. I had forgotten that black bears could climb. As it started up after me. The only thing I could think of was to call for help. The call was a howl of course, but a familiar grey coat followed by several other shades of black, brown, and white coats with him. Outnumbered, the bear was quick to give me up. How he recognized my call, I couldn’t say. But it certainly made me glad I had freed him instead of killing him”.

To clear the building tension, I make a teasing remark “Perhaps Dorian was correct about you. A gentle soul indeed”.

He scoffs “I find it hard to believe a gentle soul could be an assassin. They’d probably cry before, during and after every assignment”.

An acceptable answer “Perhaps gentle is not the right word”. The raven rouses from its slumber and flies to his shoulder, clacking its beak with a coo. Stroking its breast feathers, he mimics the sounds back to the creature “I have been meaning to ask you. About your affinity for replicating sounds that is”.

He raises an eyebrow “Why is that of interest? Surely making similar sounds is commonly used for covert signals”. Sure some scouts did make replications of animal sounds, but none were as accurate or believable as Athras’.

“I’ve met no one that can be as undistinguishable from the real creature in comparison”.

There was a light dusting of a blush across his cheeks, clearly compliments regarding his vocal skills were uncommon. “What about it then?” he asks.

I watch as he gets the bird to step down onto his forearm, talons biting into his skin slightly “I suppose everything. How you replicate the sound, when did you learn if it was taught, does it put a strain on your throat”.

He plays with the raven as he talks, teasing his fingers around its beak “The how is sort of difficult to explain. It’s a matter of making two sounds at once. A simple croak involves vibration combined with sound. Clicking is mostly involved with the tongue and release of air from the throat. I learned young, my mother’s brother taught me how to croak, I picked up the rest by listening and getting a feel for what sound I could make that was close. It isn’t easy. When I was learning, it initially damaged my vocal cords from the amount of strain. Once they healed, strain was no longer an issue”.

He had mentioned being clanless when we first met. Unless this was a lie then something must have happened regarding his relations. There was no way he was a city born elf given his demeanor and doubts of him being Dalish given the missing vallaslin. These were questions for another time “So you could teach others if you wished?”

His brow raised and he took his attention away from the bird; redirecting it towards me “I could. Why anyone would want to learn, I couldn’t tell you. My mother’s brother and I were close. The crow was how we greeted one another or just signaled that we were nearby. The calls scouts use work just as well”.

I give him a smile “A secret code of sorts between you. Did you have siblings to teach this skill to?”

He hoists the raven up encouraging it to fly off. It does but stays close in one of the trees “Can’t see to shake him off. Giving him food might have been a bad idea. I had sisters. Neither were interested in learning. One too focused on her own family, the other more interested in getting out on her own and doing as she pleased”. He spoke with a cool indifference.

I assumed there was little love lost between them, “You mentioned a howl as well. Aside from the raven and the wolf, what others have you managed to learn?”

There is a pause, an expression of thought evident on his face “The raven’s cousin the crow. The sounds are similar, although the crow is higher pitched in its caws. I also have a growl. It was actually the first sound I learned. I used it as a child to express my irritation. Its stuck since then. I think it was the growling and initial learning of a new sound that required vibration that damaged my cords”.

Where a child, even of potential Dalish origin, learned to growl I couldn’t fathom. Picturing a younger Athras growling at faceless sisters was amusing to say the least “You did not growl in your confrontation with us, or Vivienne as far as I am aware. Did you perhaps outgrow the habit?”

There was a shift in his demeanor. His lip curled up and the rumbling sound of a steady growl echoed through the camp. It was over in moments and the beast of an elf was civil “Encountered with such an expression, do you think I would have been given any recourse?”

I had to admit, if that was the Inquisitor’s first impression, she might have said kill it now and ask questions later “No. I would not put it past most people to call you a demon, or at the very least possessed by one. They’d likely call for your death”.

He nods “I am aware. As I grew up, I started to discern when and where it’s appropriate. It is a habit, but one I do my best to control considering the times we find ourselves in”. I had no more questions as I had learned more than enough for now. “Well **_Solas_** , do you still need time or are you ready to return to the madness of Skyhold?”

Ah yes, the pain from losing Wisdom had been forgotten in my interest for Athras’ dreams “It hurts” is all I can manage to say.

He walks over and puts a hand on my shoulder, “And it always will. It will hurt no less tomorrow than it does today. It won’t be any less a year from now. But, you will learn to live with it. It’ll be easier to go on each day without them”. His words bring with them comfort, a validation for my emotions that I had never received from a creature of the world I helped create. He made the idea of returning to Skyhold bearable.

Trying to help the Inquisitor finish the mess I’d made would be a welcome distraction “I think heading back to Skyhold would be best. Are you well rested enough to travel? You could not have gotten more than a few hours given the amount of daylight left”.

He nods “I’ve rested enough. I’m sure Leliana would prefer to hear from me personally regarding the ramparts”. I was not going to force the issue and so camp was packed, the horses were made ready, and we left the Exalted Plains. The raven flew overhead, it appeared that Athras was stuck with it now.


	9. Adamant

Athras:

The journey back was mostly silent. A few questions and answers here and there exchanged between us. It was small things, conversational really. We both seemed to prefer silence. The raven continued to fly above and when the creature tired, it settled down on my shoulder. It seemed I would not be rid of him. Given its demeanor, and only memories in my dreams, I dismissed the notion that it was a demon or mage in disguise. Few mages in Thedas had the ability to shape change. Morrigan and Flemeth were confirmed and perhaps Solas as well, but I knew of no others in the realm. It took us all day and most of the evening to get back. Neither of us were wanting to rest on the road. The guards were quick to let us inside and I was just as quick to bid Solas farewell in favor of meeting with Leliana. The tired human was still pouring over reports as I entered her rookery. “All the ramparts in the Exalted Plains have been cleared of undead. Arcane Horrors were the ones to cause their rise. The remaining dead that could have risen have been burned as well”.

Her tired eyes widen a moment “I only asked you to clear the Eastern Ramparts”.

I shrug “I had some things to work through and figured I shouldn’t leave the job half-way done. My uniform will be in need of repairs though. As it turns out, Arcane Horrors have very sharp claws. I also managed to get a few samples of their clothes. Figured you’d have people interested in researching them”.

She pinches the bridge of her nose “Fine. Considering the Eastern Ramparts were your punishment for leaving without at least telling me beforehand; I’ll see you compensated for clearing the Western Ramparts. Get some sleep, I’ll likely have a job for you when the Inquisitor returns from the Western Approach. Bring the rags to Helisma in the library and drop your armor off in the nest. Someone will give you a replacement.”

Clearly being dismissed, I went to follow her commands. Helisma, being tranquil as she was, was still awake and accepted my findings with an apathetic thank you. I headed down into the nest and left my armor on the bar before heading back to my own room. Solas had just about entered his own room as he heard my approach. He pauses, deciding to wait for me for whatever reason. When I get to my own door, he speaks “I hope Leliana wasn’t too harsh in her reprimanding”.

I roll my eyes “No, I’m still being compensated for my work in the ramparts despite the task being designed as a punishment. She seemed far too tired to conjure up any anger towards me. Apparently the Inquisitor is in the Western Approach. Until she returns, I likely won’t have another assignment”.

He nods “Yes, Cole informed me. She along with Varric, Cassandra, Bull, Hawke, and Warden Stroud went out to investigate. They seem to think it is possible that the wardens were involved with the death of the Divine”.

I hadn’t been expecting to be informed, but it was nice to know where I existed in the timeline now. I had general clues, before the party and assassination attempt, but I had no idea how far. As it turns out, not too much. Once they returned, it would be for the adamant battle. Would Solas be one of the few chosen? Would I somehow end up on the battlefield? Who would be left in the fade, Hawke or Stroud? These were questions I did not know the answer to. “I would hope they are not. I wasn’t too surprised about most of the templars being corrupted. Wardens, one would hope they wouldn’t fall prey to it so easily”.

He nods in agreement, then pauses slightly hesitant “Would you be offended if I offered you the title of lethalin?”

I move so I can throw an arm over his shoulder and then proceed to pull him into a what I could only call a playful chokehold with his back against my chest. It wasn’t too awkward considering I had the privilege of being close if not the same height. “I’d be proud to have you hold me in such high regard. I wouldn’t have gone to help you if I didn’t consider you a friend”. He initially struggled but my words caused such actions to cease as his body sagged in relief. Releasing him, I give him a grin to return his good-natured glare “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now. You’ll be warned now that I can be very tactile with my friends as I’ve so clearly demonstrated. Good night Solas.”

There’s the small smile that I grew accustomed to in the games “You as well Athras and thank you”.

I had little rest before there was pounding at my door. The violent noise sent my bleary mind into a frenzy for arms. Dagger in hand, I open the door to find Doshiel, his face set in a grim line “The mistress calls for you. A fair warning, she is stressed”. I nod and quickly get dressed into my armor, having not received my replacement. Weapons are quickly put into their respective places. If whatever task she had was urgent, she would want me prepared to leave posthaste. I hadn’t unpacked from the rescue turned revenge quest and that suited me just fine. The halls of Skyhold were quiet as I headed up to the rookery. The raven that followed me home quick to swoop down and perch on my shoulder away from the conspiracy located above. Her face was set in a grim line as she paced back and forth “You summoned me?”

She turns and acknowledges my presence “Yes, it is a matter of grave importance. The Inquisitor sent word ahead from the Western Approach. It doesn’t look good. There is a Lord Erimund of Vyrantium. He appears to be controlling the mages of the Warden’s in Corypheus’ stead. He’s taught the mages of killing their comrades and binding the demons that form from them. He is one of the Venatori. Warden Stroud thinks the remaining Wardens, the demons they’ve summoned, and Erimund are located at Fort Adamant”.

I nod, taking in the information I had already known before hand, so he was able to get away this time as well “I see. Where do I fit in this picture? Did you wish for me to invade Adamant and kill this Erimund for you or something more subtle?”

Her eyebrow raises “I was expecting more of a reaction from you I must admit. I will want him killed eventually, but first I want information. We have thus far been unsuccessful in getting spies into the ranks without them losing their minds to Corypheus. As I understand it, you have a knack for moving about undetected. With an added bonus to your armor, I think you would be perfect for getting inside and passing on the information that I require”.

A scout comes in and presents me with an impressive armor set. It keeps the general style of one of the crows, but the color and texture is off; more light grey and scales compared to the black leather of the previous set. I take it and inspect it. I’d have to transfer my holsters to it, but it was a fine piece of work, much higher in protective qualities than the standard uniform. “This would be part of your payment, in advance of the job. It was expensive to make, but necessary to ensure you will have no trouble staying out of sight. The primary layer is made from lurker scales, very light weight. The scales used were touched with Fade energy, which gives it some unique properties we have yet to test. The secondary layer is halla leather infused with Fade energy. Once again we cannot be sure what properties the Fade brings out in the material. We hope that once you put it on, these energies will synchronize with your skill set and change to suit you. I’ve made you a map of the fortress. I am unsure how much, if anything has changed, but I need you to find chokepoints that we can use to limit the battlefield. We have trebuchet’s being ordered as we speak, but I need to know what we’re facing. Change, I’ll send someone to pack a mount for your journey. And take that raven with you. He’s caused nothing but trouble with the others”.

I give her a nod “Choke points, number of demons, number of mages, number of warriors. Other things at my discretion I assume. Got it. I’ll see it done”. Walking downstairs and into Solas’ rotunda, I prepare for my mission. It was a relatively private space, and hardly anyone was awake at this time of night. I strip down to my small clothes, sliding on the new armor on piece by piece. It was cool against my skin but warmed in moments. There was the feeling of magic against my skin, no doubt this was the Fade that had attached itself to the material. It felt almost, sentient. I put the necessary holsters on for my knives, dagger, and sword. All in all, it felt as if I was wearing nothing more than clothes. Very light and easy to move in. I left Solas’ preferred blend on his desk and headed to the stables. A horse was made ready for me and waiting at the gates. Map in hand, I knew where to go and what I was doing.

It took a couple days to get there. The horse and I both needed breaks from riding and time to sleep. I arrived in the dead of night, leaving the horse at Griffin Keep, which had been taken over by the Inquisition. Adamant wasn’t too far off, and the desert was cool without the blistering sun. The raven had dutifully followed, flying above me for most of the way. Pulling my hood and mask into place, I tested the boundaries of the fortress. The raven would fly above and come back, clicking in my ear. I began to associate the clicks with the number of enemies on the battlements. Smart bird. Once his clicks reached single digits like one and two, I found a small hole in the wall. Crawling inside proved to be my point of infiltration. It was remarkably easy for me to sneak around the fortress, dodging demons and their mages. There were still warriors that hadn’t yet been used in the ritual. Moving from shadow to shadow, I marked points that I remembered from the game, observing how easy it would be to keep battle contained in these positions. On the side of the map, I kept a tally for every demon and its type I saw as well as the number of wardens and their classes. Erimund was still out of my reach as well Clarel, but I wasn’t concerned with them at the moment. It would be wise to make sure the battlements are secured before the Inquisitor moves in if my past experience was anything to go by. It would be too easy for the soldiers to be overwhelmed by the wardens and their demons.. With sufficient enough information for having mapped everything out in a night, I left the fortress. Knowing that scouts were far faster at getting information back, I found the nearest one in Griffon Keep. It was as dawn began to break that I went down in one of the empty tents.

I awoke to a persistent croaking outside my tent. It was beginning to turn dark outside. I was sore, hungry and thirsty. With some stretching, rations, and water, my problems were solved. I was nearly ready to leave the keep when a scout rushes ahead, out of breath “Mistress Leliana thanks you. Your further orders are to remain here until you hear of the Inquisition’s forces arriving. From there, you will infiltrate Adamant once more and keep eyes on Erimund and Clarel. If Erimund looks like he will flee again, you are to take him out”. He manages to say this all in one breathe before he needed a proper breath.

I imagine these messages are passed in sprints, with scouts located at major points where the other would need rest. This way it wasn’t one person making the whole trip but splitting it into more manageable stints. I thank him and bide my time in camp, sharpening my weapons, getting a feel for what my armor was capable of. I vaguely recall some masterwork materials that boosted stealth and how quickly one moved while in that state. I had to assume this work did something similar given Leliana thought this was necessary for the mission. No one had seen or heard me skulking about, not the mages, not the demons. It was almost child’s play.

Days later and I caught wind of the Inquisition’s forces reaching the Western Approach. Gathering my gear, I left for Adamant. Once more, it was all too easy getting in. I roamed through the fortress until I was in the main hall, eyes directly on my two targets. If I left everything, Clarel would cause major damage and get rid of the dragon. I could swoop in and kill Erimund before the Inquisition’s soldiers got to him. Now it was all a waiting game. The wardens, some reluctantly begin forming the ritual circle and follow Erimund/Clarel’s instructions. It would be ready to use by the time the Inquisition’s forces arrived. I’d at least get to see who she brought along. I hoped for my dream team of Solas and Cole with either Iron Bull or Dorian. As a person in this world, I hoped for Dorian more. Granted there was perhaps only one person that would willingly go physically into the fade. It was probably another hour before I could feel the trembling in the walls, impacts from the trebuchets. There was some panic that Clarel was quick to soften.

The mages began to build upon the magic, the veil so close to tearing. It only waited on the blood of one sacrifice and a little more power to unleash greater demons into Thedas. It could have been perhaps twenty minutes before I caught sight of the Inquisitor and her assault party. Stroud and Hawke were a given. Varric was also a likely choice given his friendship with Hawke. Solas was another addition I was pleased to see, though he would likely never know I’m here. Iron Bull was another addition, his fear after coming back from demon land might be interesting. Two of them were with her when she met me, so I wasn’t too surprised by her choices. It was a pretty balanced team overall. Two mages, a rogue and a warrior. Hawke and Stroud would theoretically be useless if they are stunned by the Nightmare. Clarel had attempted to assuage the fears of her underlings, to no avail. She sacrificed her friend, his blood splattering from his neck. He was willing to die, though I would hope his spirit did not turn and seek vengeance upon realizing that it had died for nothing. “Stop them! We must complete the ritual” shouted Erimund. He was clearly the commander here, only using Clarel as a puppet on a string.

I was amused by the Inquisitor’s cocky attitude “I’m sure you can’t wait for Clarel to do that. How else are you going to bind her?”

Erimund, the Tevinter politician that he is responded in such a way to twist her words “Yes, Inquisitor. I want to bind the Warden-Commander to a demon. Everyone in this room already knows that”. Clarel looks to the invading party, bearing an apathetic expression. “And yes the ritual requires blood sacrifice. Hate me for that if you must, but do not hate the wardens for doing their duty”.

I must admit that he was clever in his own way, but not clever enough to survive without a master. Clarel was bolstered by his words, eating out of his palm like a dog “We make the sacrifices no one else will. Our warriors die proudly for a world that will never thank them”.

Stroud had enough “And then your Tevinter ally binds the mages to Corypheus”.

Clarel has the decency to be surprised. Honestly, why she thought this was the only way was insulting to leaders. “Corypheus? But he is dead”. Not as dead as most would like him to be unfortunately.

Erimund whispers his honeyed words into her ear to regain her compliance. It works beautifully as she commands the ritual to proceed.

Hawke is next to appeal to the humanity of the remaining wardens “Please! I have seen more than my fair share of blood magic! It is never worth the cost!” Perhaps on a scale such as this he was correct. There were simpler things done with such magic that wasn’t nearly as egregious.

Stroud adds to his words “I’ve trained half of you myself! Do not make me kill you to stop this madness!” The sounds of demons screeching could be heard from the Fade. Erimund draws Clarel’s attention away from what is going on below with more honeyed words.

The Inquisitor was able to garner their attention “Listen to me! I have no quarrel with the wardens! I have spared those I could! I don’t want to kill you, but you’re being used…and some of you know it don’t you?” Ah, so she allowed the warriors who didn’t want to be sacrificed to go free. The wardens below make noises of agreement, one stating how not right the mages are outright. Clarel tries to bring him to heel, but to no avail.

Hawke calls her out on this “He’s not afraid. You are. You’re afraid that you ordered all these brave men and women to die for nothing”. And wasn’t that the cold hard truth.

Stroud was quick to soothe the terrible burn of betrayal “I honor your bravery brothers and sisters. But this is not the way. You have been tricked”.

The wardens looked to their commander, who had no words for them. It was here that she truly doubted her actions. Erimund summoned the dragon that held most of Corypheus’ power. It was a fun time watching Clarel turn on the magister like a rabid dog. I stuck to my plan of allowing Clarel her meager revenge. Once everyone turned a blind eye to the major source of conflict, I could swoop in and kill him. I followed behind the assault party, going entirely unnoticed as I watched a play by play of everything going down. It pretty much emulated the games. Clarel shot a series of spells as she ranted at the magister. He was pitiful, almost like kicking a puppy. The dragon swooped down, crunched her a little and spat her back out before turning its assault on the party. Clarel saved the day with her dying breath and the bridge began to collapse, taking the party with it into the Fade.

Knowing I wouldn’t be seen by anyone but the magister at this rate, I was confident to whistle a tune and approach him. Like the rat he was, he scrambled to make an escape. With his injuries, he looked the part of a rat in a trap. “Shame really. You vints can’t operate without a corrupt master it seems. And would you look at that, the abomination isn’t here to save you”. I crouch down next to him, even as he tries and fails to inch away “You see, you’ve pissed off the wrong people. When you piss off the wrong people, you get bastards like me sent to make you disappear. Lucky for you, I wasn’t told to make it slow. Your death will be quick. It is better than you could hope for from the Inquisitor. I have no doubt she’d make your death a spectacle. Try to relax, I’m told death feels like slipping into a warm bath”.

His struggles cease entirely as I plunge my dagger through his breastbone and into his heart. It wasn’t the quickest way to die, but certainly wasn’t the slowest. With my job done, I lift the blade from the body, and return his features to a dignified appearance. Old habits die hard they say. I wipe his blood away on my sleeve. I observe curiously as the fabric absorbs the liquid. The previous dark red stain vanished. The armor was practically buzzing against my skin, almost like it was purring. The only thing I could maybe compare it to would be a symbiote. Hopefully this armor wasn’t so much parasitic as it was blood thirsty. I call for my lovely raven, I would need to be thinking of a name for him soon. Probably in elvhen. Midha sounded nice. He perches on my outstretched arm. I coo at him and play with his beak a moment “I think its time a give you a name since there is no being rid of you now. What do you think of Midha?” He bobs up and down and coos. So it was decided that Midha was mine. He walks up and sits on my shoulder as I walk through Adamant.

After some time, I start helping with the moving of bodies. It was easy to follow those that carried the dead and get them stacked up. It would seem that they were accounted for and then set ablaze. A pity, but this seemed common enough for dying on the battlefield. They would see who went and then who didn’t come back.

The dead taken care of, I decided to get a head start on returning to Skyhold. My job was done in its entirety and while I was interested to see what would happen once they returned with Erimund dead, Athras couldn’t be here when they arrived. I returned to Griffon Keep, getting my belongings gathered and some basic supplies to get me started on the road. I used the same horse as before, although hooves and sand didn’t go particularly well together, we made it to the Emerald Graves before daybreak. We stopped by a river to drink and relax. I would likely make camp here and continue later on tomorrow. If I could stay awake, perhaps getting back to some semblance of a schedule would be possible. I left the creature to graze and decided to fish in the stream. After wading in the waters for a time, it was all too easy to skewer passing fish. A quick fire was built, fish were cooked and a simple meal that wasn’t dried or salted was enjoyed. I gave Midha a fish of his own, uncooked as it wasn’t necessary for a creature such as he. The horse enjoyed a good brush down as well. It was important to maintain a decent relationship with these mounts. I did leave camp to forage for herbs, mostly elfroot. As I journeyed, I found myself a grouping of cedar trees. After giving the tree appropriate thanks, I harvested some of its leaves as well as some of its bark. The tree would not be harmed because of this and I’d leave with one of the few healing tea ingredients from home. Between the cedar and various fallen branches, I was ready to retire for the night. There was sufficient firewood to keep it going throughout the night. I curled up on the forest floor with a fur blanket, forgoing any semblance of a tent.

I hadn’t stepped into the fade, not having a deep enough rest to reach there. But the rest was well enough for me to move on. I was thankfully not besought by predators in the night as they likely feared the fire. Demons were not an issue either and I lived to see another sunrise. Within an hour of waking, I was back on the road. Midha flying ahead and back at his leisure. It wasn’t surprising to find that I had beaten the Inquisition’s forces back to the stronghold.

Leliana was quick to demand a debrief of the events I had witnessed. I went through the play by play of events from my point of view, minus my little monologue with Erimund as it was unnecessary flare on my part. She was pleased and went on to explain how crucial the information I relayed had been on their battle plans. I was sent back to my room with some gold and a demand for me to rest. I felt as though I had rested plenty and only went to my room to put my things away and change out of my armor. I’ll admit to being relieved that I could take it off without much fuss. I put on a long-sleeved shirt and black pants as well as my coat before heading to the library. My aim was to chat with Dorian. He was perusing the bookshelves before he spotted me “Rumor has it that you’ve returned from the Western Approach. What did our spy master have in mind for sending you out there hm?”

I sit in one of the chairs in his little alcove “Getting the useful bits of information so Cullen can bring home a victory. If there’s one less Venatori to worry about after I disappeared, who’s to say I’m responsible”. It was a strategic gamble to bring in the Venatori. In-game Dorian had it out for them, but considering this Dorian wasn’t wholly opposed to blood magic, I couldn’t be too sure.

His answering smirk brings me some manner of relief that my gamble paid off “Good riddance I say”. We idly chat, keeping everything conversational when Midha swoops down from the rookery with a cackle. He perches on a desk and coos.

I glare at him and Dorian is intrigued “Something between you two?”

I click my tongue in distaste “Dorian this is Midha. He started following me after I gave him some meat from one of my kills in the field. Can’t get rid of him, so he has a name. I’m debating on just calling him trouble; he taunts the other birds and some of them won’t take messages for the spy master without food”.

The bird has the decency to look pitiful “Perhaps you could talk with them and set things right?”

I laugh “Like they’d listen to me. If they won’t listen to their mistress, my words are dirt”. The topic then reached into my little skill of sounding like a raven. I didn’t go as in depth as I did with Solas. It wasn’t needed. All Dorian wanted to know what the how and did it hurt. A servant brought me a carafe of tea as we fell into silence and began feathering through various books. He slipped me one with a wink. As I read through its contents, it contained some insightful things on blood magic. It was hand-written, making me think this was either Dorians notes or perhaps someone’s from Tevinter. It made sense for Dorian to know of blood magic, not just because he was Tevinter, but because it had nearly been used on him. I would want to know about it as well if that were the case. How could you fight something without knowing what made it tick? I had been so engrossed in the text that I hadn’t heard the servants bring food. My helping went nearly undisturbed until Dorian tried to get my attention. He had a knife point under his chin in a second. I quickly put the weapon away, snapping the book closed with a light blush “Sorry”.

He laughs “So you weren’t lying about possibly stabbing me in the night? I’ll admit that I initially thought you hated me when you wouldn’t share a tent with me”.

I shake my head and address the hearty meal I was served “No, afraid I wasn’t. It’s incredibly awkward when a bed partner moves around too much and finds a knife at their neck. Complete mood killer”. He laughs and digs into his own, lighter meal. After a few bites, he pours himself a glass of wine. He offers some to myself, but I decline with a grimace “Wine and I are not friends”.

He laughs and puts the bottle away “Well considering how distracted you were, I assume the book proved to hold your interest?”

I nod “That it did. It’s been ages since a mere book has been able to distract me from hunger. I would have gone without if you hadn’t been here”.

Dorian smiles, sipping his wine and twirling it in his glass “There are few that would stay attached to such texts. The scandal alone would put most off of touching it, let alone read it”.

I sigh, “Yes, the fear will no doubt increase once word get out about what the wardens were doing. There wasn’t much purpose to what they were doing. They might just start locking mages up again”.

He hums “You speak as though circle mages and apostates are no different”. I drink from my tea “What is a circle but a gilded cage. Magic is far from my reach, but I know enough to recognize that being an apostate on the run would be better than a circle”.

He nods “In Tevinter, magic is a coveted resource. Anyone possessing it has a chance to escape their stations. I am not so dense as to deny the slaves that exist, but those possessing magic have a far better chance at rising out of it. There is very little boundary on what is right and wrong in terms of magic”.

It generally went along with what I knew about Tevinter, which was very little. “Orelais is different in that case. Magic largely limited; most slaves have the title of servant as a pretense of being more civilized. Couldn’t even go for a walk in peace through the markets without disguising myself as a human. But I hate politics. The closest I get to them is slitting throats”.

There is a grim smile and a chuckle towards the end “You know, at one point I was next in line to be Magister. If I ever decide to take up the title I might have need of your services”.

I shrug “Fork over the gold and point them out. They’re as good as dead”.

He laughs heartily at that “You’re a bit of a loose cannon, I like that about you Athras. I can never seem to predict your reactions. You can keep the book until you finish it. I’ve read through it enough times already”.

I give him a smile of appreciation and finish off my meal. Rather ran return to my rooms, I stretched out onto the bench seat in his little nook and continued reading. There isn’t much space left on the bench, but Dorian chooses to sit on it regardless, moving my feet out of the way. In defiance, I rest them in his lap. He rolls his eyes with a grin and we resume our books. At some point Midha perched himself on my shoulder and ducked his head down to sleep. I finished the last page and snap it closed. It was an intriguing piece, one that furthered my interest in the various levels of blood magic. I was familiar with the concept in my own world. Indeed it went hand in hand with necromancy. By that margin, the text I had read stated how blood was life and that was what attracted spirits. They wanted a taste of being alive again. Helping them would be a sure-fire way to get into the good graces of the dead and thus boons of wealth, knowledge and power could be granted. Here it was different in that the spirits that took offerings were demons or negative entities. They would power the spells and dismantle them with blood of the caster acting as payment. Back home, it was fair to say necromancers and blood mages were the same. The two schools of magic were separate in Thedas. One could be a necromancer, but not deal in blood magic. This made me wonder how my own limited skill in blood sorcery translated over. I could still call upon the entity I was tied with to do some small feats of magic. Destroying the summoning circle was example of that. Perhaps it only worked because it was a summoning circle. I hadn’t attempted to try any other forms of magic considering the notoriety. I’ve also haven’t given much blood to the dead, but graves were not easy to come by. If I end up in the Exalted Plains, there would be an opportunity to do so there. I would hope it wouldn’t literally raise the dead from their graves.

Dorian lightly taps on my ankle, drawing me away from my thoughts “You were staring off into the abyss. I could practically see the gears turning in that pretty head of yours. A copper for your thoughts?”

I stretch, the bench while comfortable wasn’t meant for laying on for long periods of time “Just observing the fine line. Don’t need to be a mage to see that”.

His continues tapping a faint rhythm against my foot “Can’t say I’ve met a rogue that could sense enchantments. You didn’t deny Bull when he called you a mage in our first meeting either”.

I shrug “There wouldn’t have been a point. It hardly matters what other people call me. It was a poor observation on his part, I had no staff. Just a sword and knives. As for sensing enchantments, I suppose you could say I’m sensitive to magic in items, but I have no access to the Fade to use it otherwise”. I get up off the bench, stretching once again with a yawn “Thanks for the good read and the company”.

He smiles “Any time. It is…nice…having you around”.

I laugh “Careful Dorian, you just might choke on such sweet words”.

He snorts “You’re probably right. What would they say about me cozying up to an assassin?”

I roll my eyes “Considering the rumor mill? More than you’d like to hear I’m sure”. On that note we part ways. I return to my room and get myself some quality sleep.


	10. Despair and tiny cakes

Athras:

The Fade once again took the shape of memories. The sound of distant drumming as I sat alone in the dark, a comfort. Stars danced in the night sky, clear of clouds and full moon to light up the forest around me. The firekeepers were drumming for those of us on our fasting. It was my last night out here. I’d been out for nearing 4 days with no food, water, and maybe only an hour or two of sleep. Everything was blending together, time, shapes, sounds. I sit in the dark, listening to the drums, the movement of brush and trees, the snap of branches as I’m approached. It is a bobcat walks over to me, sitting a few feet from me. My deprived brain could make out words from the creature, a spirit. A crow swoops down and lands on the little predator’s head. A totem. Before I could stay awake no longer, the distant cry of an eagle echoed with the drums.

I shot awake in a cold sweat. I hadn’t thought back on my visions during my fast in a long time. The one who sent me there had died before I could tell him what I saw and for him to tell me what it all meant. It would be forever a mystery now. There were no such people here. If I continued to practice such traditions, it would need to be in secret. No such people existed in this world. There was no way to explain where I picked up such things. I roll out of bed, Midha croaking from the bed post. “You must have been a very bored bird to decide that following me around was a good idea” I grumble, throwing on my coat and a different pair of pants. I head down to the nest, aiming to get some target practice in.

There is only one person there, a human female. Her hood was down and revealed dark blonde hair that contrasted with her tanned skin. She was firing arrows at one of the targets. I line up my knives on a table, figuring its best to keep up my aim. I couldn’t rely on muscle memory forever. She looks over after she fires one into one of the outer rings. Her stance was off, and she wasn’t pulling the string back far enough. “When did you decide to take up the bow” I ask as I throw a couple knives, they were in the inner most circle next to each other.

She huffs and lets loose another arrow, this one getting a little closer to the center “The mistress insisted I needed a double proficiency. Being a rogue, the bow was the next and only option”.

I sink another couple knives in and decide to teach this human a thing or two “One would think she’d at least point you towards a decent tutor. I’m sure you’ve noticed its much harder than it looks”.

She turns and glares “If you know so much then you shoot it”. She thrusts the bow in my hands and crosses her arms.

I take an arrow from her quiver and step much further away than where she was standing. Its easy to step into a stable stance and draw the bow back. The string is flush with my cheek. I release the arrow as I exhale, resulting in a lovely bullseye.

Her mouth hangs open in shock “If you’re that good, why don’t you use one. I’ve talked with the others; you use a sword mostly”.

I scoff “Whoever you talked to is misinformed. The sword is for when I’m caught in open combat. I use a dagger for my targets and knives for long and very intimate range. The last bow I had snapped in a nasty fall. I haven’t bothered replacing it since I only used it for hunting. Now, did you want to learn how to use this thing or not?”

She nods vigorously. Handing back the bow, I show her how to hold it. I recommended for her to wear armor when she’s using it until she stops smacking her forearm with the string. I correct her stance and make sure she knows to pull it back to her cheek. Satisfied with her form, I stepped back for her to fire. Already there was drastic improvement as it was two rings off from center compared to the outer two rings from before. She grins and resumes her practice with renewed energy. I throw my remaining knives, retrieve them and leave the nest.

I’d gone and did my usual stint in the sick bay, no one was in danger of death, so I wasn’t there very long. Before too long, I found myself sitting on top of one of the battlement towers. I watched the sun descend over the mountains and the Inquisitor and her army return. Frankly I was shocked at how fast they made it back to Skyhold. An army of that size usually takes time to move. Perhaps they rushed to seek the comforts of home away from home.

It was well into the night, there was a cacophony of noise coming from the main hall, a celebration of sorts. There were no such sounds coming from the tavern. Either it was empty or filled with people struck with grief. I wonder briefly who was left behind in the Fade, or if that was a fate that didn’t occur in this realm. Ready to head back inside, I turn to find Cole, shivering. It was odd behavior for a spirit. “Are you alright Cole?” He doesn’t respond and I step closer to him. With no response, I touch his shoulder.

Whatever fog had taken him disappeared as quickly as it came “It was very cold. The cheers, harsh against my ears. How can they celebrate when he, she, they’re gone? It aches. I can never hear her voice. Never see his smile. My friend for years and all I’ll be able to remember is him saying goodbye.”

I wrap the spirit in a hug, trying to focus on being the opposite of what he hears. Grief is an ugly thing. It can tear people apart and is quick to turn into despair if a person doesn’t have a support to fall on. “Easy Cole. You can’t help them all at once, they can’t be made to forget their pain either”.

He releases a shaky sigh, clearly still very distressed “But they hurt so much. It is a pain that aches, stabs, wrenching at heartstrings”.

I sigh, thinking of something I could do to help him. Those in the tavern need a boost in morale, to realize that they aren’t alone, and they still have plenty of friends left. I sit Cole down against a sturdy wall “Wait here. I’m going to see if I can help”. I don’t wait for his response and get down from the tower.

It’s easy to walk into the tavern. Few eyes turn as the door swings open. I see Varric at a table by himself. Bull drinking to access with his chargers. There’s also a fair few soldiers drinking away the horrors of battle. The bard is missing, but her lute is still sitting there. I pick it up, moving my fingers to find the cords I wanted. Once I had the tune figured out, I started playing in earnest, leaning against an empty table. Hardly anyone paid me any mind, so I hoped they wouldn’t ask for my head once I began to sing “Here’s to the ones that we got. Cheers to the wish you were here but you’re not. Cause the drinks bring back all the memories, of everything we’ve been through. Toast to the ones here today. Toast to the ones we lost on the way. Cause the drinks bring back all the memories. And the memories bring back memories bring back you”. The lyrics caught the attention of the tavern, their stares not filled with anger, so I felt it was good to continue “There’s I time that I remember, when I did not know no pain. When I believed in forever and everything would stay the same. Now my heart feel like a winter, when somebody say your name. Cause I can’t reach out to call you, but I know I will one day. Everybody hurts sometimes. Everybody hurts someday ay ay. But everything gon be alright, go and raise a glass and say ay. Here’s to the ones that got. Cheers to the wish you were here but you’re not. Cause the drinks bring back all the memories of everything we been through. Toast to the ones here to today. Toast to the ones that we lost on the way. Cause the drinks bring back the memories. And the memories bring back memories bring back you”. I go into a little filler of hums. Everyone still had sad looks in their eyes, but they were starting to look between one another, onto the next verse “There’s a time that I remember, when I never felt to lost. When I felt all the hatred, was too powerful to stop. Now my heart feel like an ember, and it’s lighting up the dark. I’ll carry these torches for ya that you know I’ll never drop. Everybody hurts sometimes. Everybody hurts someday ay ay. But everything gon be alright, go and raise a glass and say ay.”

Here is where I got some crows participation, Bull being the first “Here’s to the ones that we got”.

Varric even chimed in the next line “Cheers to the wish you were here but you’re not”.

I continue despite the added voices, they have the lines down by now “Cause the drinks bring back all the memories, of everything we’ve been through. Toast to the ones here today. Toast to the ones that we lost on the way. Cause the drinks bring back all the memories, and the memories bring back memories bring back you”.

I fall off to the humming filler before finishing the last few cords. There was silence, there was no need for applause. I decided to stand up on the metaphorical soap box to deliver some lasting words “Frankly the Inquisitor should be the one giving you all these words. Leaders usually have a knack for speeches. Regardless you need to hear words from someone, and I guess I’ll have to do. I’m not asking you to celebrate like your allies in the hall. We lost a lot of good men and women for our little victory over at Adamant. I say little, because for those of you here, that feeling is hollow and meaningless. Sure we stopped Corypheus from attaining his demon army, but that hardly matters when your friends aren’t here to see it. Take pride in the fact that you had such strong, brave friends to protect your backs. There will be no replacing them, but you’ll learn to move forward without them. Take the night, drink yourselves into a stupor. I’d say you more than earned it”.

I see several nods of agreement followed by a few tipping their mugs in a toast. I was about to leave when there was a hand on my arm “Why don’t you stick around a bit. Drinks on me”. I turn to find Varric with a smile on his face. I shrug and join him at his table. I order three fingers of whiskey, simple enough and something I could work on over an hour or two. “That was an impressive speech. Seems like you’ve given plenty of them”.

I hum noncommittally “Not really. The depressing atmosphere of this place sent Cole running. Didn’t seem like you’d be getting a morale boost anytime soon so I threw this little performance together. Seems it’s done everyone here some good”.

He nods, “Poor kid. It’s hard to remember that he sits upstairs most of the time. Where’d you learn to play like that? I can’t imagine a recluse likely yourself being a secret bard”.

I roll my eyes and take a sip of my drink. It’s warm on the tongue but burns down the throat. “It was only a song I heard in passing. As for playing the lute, it was a passing interest on the road. I’m hardly skilled in playing it”.

Taking another drink, I hear the shout of a familiar Qunari “Hey hermit! Over here!”

I sigh and Varric gives me a look of sympathy. I pick up my drink and walk over to the group of chargers, pulling the bards chair with me. I turn it so I’m sitting with the back of the chair between my legs “You summoned me Horns?”

He replies as I take another gulp “Just wanted to commend you on your singing. Song was just what me and the boys needed”.

I shrug “Didn’t really do it for you, but I’ll take whatever compliments I can get from the guy that still calls me a manipulative hermit”.

He laughs “You heard about that did you?”

Krem at least looks a little apologetic “The chief loves his nicknames. You’ll be stuck with that one unless he finds something else to call you”.

I finish the rest of my drink “Can’t imagine what else he could come up with”. With that I stand, leave the empty glass on the bar and see myself out. The courtyard is empty. Shouts and celebration having died down a little from the hall.

Cole appears in my peripheral vision. Turning, I find him in a much better state than I found him in earlier “Their despair is muted now that they know they aren’t alone. Your words put walls around their pain. Thank you. Their pain was different, I didn’t know how to help without making them forget”.

I give him a smile “I know. It must have been overwhelming. You think you’ll be ready for it now if it happens again?”

He pauses “I think so. I’ve never felt so much despair at once, even from the dying. Warmth, bleeding in through the cold. It’s okay that you can’t help them. Not every hurt rests on your shoulders. Everyone needs help, even you. I’ll help them if it means helping you. Not for them, you. Oh.” Going through my feelings and thoughts he stops, coming to some conclusion on his own “You endeavor to remember me. Like Solas. He felt cold too, but there was still warmth there. A wound that would heal if time permits. She wanted him to be happy, even though she knows he wouldn’t be. A distraction, much needed curiosity. Though he searches still, the loss doesn’t hurt as deeply as it did at first. Endure she said and endure he will”.

I clap a hand onto his shoulder “He recovers because he realizes he doesn’t have to be alone. It has been too long since he could trust someone of flesh and blood. You have friends now too Cole. If you need help, you need only ask”.

He nods and walks back into the tavern. I slip into the main part of the stronghold through the door to the rotunda. Inside, Solas is painting. A new addition to his mural, but why then did he look so angry. I took a peak out to the mead hall to confirm my suspicions. Low and behold, humans wearing the all too familiar warden armor. I close the door just as quickly as I opened it. “She chose to take on the wardens as allies?” I question.

The hand on his brush tightens for a moment before he decides to set the palette and brush aside “Yes. Given that they were tricked by Corypheus, she ultimately decided it was better than exiling them”.

I hum and sit down on his desk “It would give her enough clout to be invited to the Winter Palace, but only because she has a known threat in her back pocket. Orelais will not take kindly to their presence here, but they are hardly in a position to combat the Inquisition at this size with both the wardens and Redcliffe mages at their back. Her choice makes the Inquisition a very threatening force indeed.”

He couldn’t argue that, but I had to tread lightly, Solas was known to utterly despise blood magic. “Be that as it may, I do not think that excuses them from summoning demons with blood magic”.

I nodded “They made their choice to use it but remember that most humans are but sheep. Easily terrified and willing to follow the most confident of their flock. Coincidently their leader had her strings pulled by a sweet worded Magister. But if the fault is to fall on anyone’s shoulder, let it be Clarel. It was by her orders that such rituals were conducted in the first place”.

He didn’t seem pleased but conceded that I had a point “You seem to know much of the wardens and what happened at Adamant. You were long gone before the Inquisitor launched the assault”.

I nod “How do you think the army knew where to hit the walls with their trebuchet’s. Or where the major choke points to keep the battlefield small were? By all means, Erimund wasn’t too gravely injured when you fell and yet he is dead”

His eyes widen and narrow in understanding “I see, you were there the whole time then?”

I shrug “Once you and the Inquisitor fell from the bridge, I killed Erimund, helped the other soldiers with the dead and left the Western Approach”. There is silence between us for the moment, so I decide to bring up Cole “The tavern had much less celebration. Cole wasn’t able to handle such negativity. It was a pit of despair when I went to correct it for him”.

He raises an eyebrow “Cole usually doesn’t struggle to help those around him”.

I nod “Not usually no, but bear in mind Varric, Bull and his chargers as well as soldiers who lost friends in that battle were the only ones in the building. I haven’t seen Hawke, so I assume that is why Varric is drinking away his sorrows. So much despair in one place likely overwhelmed him. I think he’ll be able to handle it better next time, knowing what it feels like”.

He descends from the scaffold “You said you corrected the issue?”

Perhaps that wasn’t a good word for it “I didn’t so much correct it as to lighten the mood so to speak. Did a little performance, gave a nice little speech. Did the Inquisitor not give words of comfort? If she did, they did not stick. Varric was beside himself with grief. Bull was pale as a sheet, though he covered his fear nicely. Whatever happened after you fell, they were still shaken up by it”.

He moves over to his desk, his nose wrinkling “Have you been drinking?”

I raise an eyebrow “Just one, whiskey if you must know. Varric offered”.

He snorts “And here I thought you drank nothing but tea. As for the Inquisitor. Her words were synonymous with a typical victory speech”.

I roll my eyes “She’s gonna need major lessons from Montilyet if she doesn’t want to be flayed alive at the Winter Palace. That’s two members of her own close allies she didn’t even bother to check on. Has she been in to see you at least?”

He nods “She has, though she did not stay long. I did not keep my displeasure of the warden’s presence here a secret. She defended them despite how dangerous they can be when they believe it is their duty to act”.

It was clear to see the idea still frustrated him. Painting had done little to calm that affect. I get off his desk, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. His muscles stiffen, but I ignore it as I speak “Why don’t I get you away from this noise for the evening. I haven’t heard exactly how all but one of you survived a fall like that”.

He opens and closes his mouth, as if he was about to protest before changing his mind “I think I could use a change of scenery. Give me a moment to put away the paints and I’ll meet you in your quarters”.

I barely contain a snort of amusement “Now who sounds scandalous. I’ll see if I can’t pilfer some of those tiny cakes. You seem to enjoy them”. I leave the poor elf to pack away his supplies. While I took the back way, I made sure to stop by the kitchens. The cooks were all too happy to present me with small deserts and a carafe of hot water. With my stop to the kitchens, Solas had already reached my room.

He stood outside the door, looking unnerved.

“You could have stepped inside you know. Unlike you, I don’t have secrets hiding in here”.

His body jumps slightly, likely not hearing my arrival “I didn’t want to intrude. I assure you there are no more secrets in my chambers than yours”.

I laugh and open the door with my foot considering my otherwise occupied hands. He quirks an eyebrow but steps inside without a word. I shut the door once again with my foot before setting down the water and cakes. “Tiny cakes from the kitchens as promised”.

He sits at the available chair, more than comfortable taking the only seat in the room “The water I would assume is for your tea”.

I nod, preparing what smelled like a gunpowder variety. An acquired taste some might say.

“And your blend for the evening? You seem to have a wide assortment” he comments.

I pour another cup and select a blend for him to try, its leaves looked like silver needle white tea and smelled just the same “I made sure to pick up plenty during my time in Orelais. I forget the name, but it’s a green tea variety anyhow. You wouldn’t like it I can say that much. However, I think this one will pair nicely with the cake you’re eating. Given the appearance of the leaves, I believe it is called silver needle, a white variety”.

He takes a careful bite from the desert followed by a sip from his own cup. He smiles “You continue to surprise me in your growing expertise in my palate”.

Midha chooses that time to swoop in from the window. He croaks and lands one of the bed posts “Ah yes where are my manners. Considering I couldn’t get rid of him, and the fact Leliana doesn’t want him with the others, I’ve given him a name. Meet Midha”.

He chuckles “An appropriate name for the companion of an assassin”.

I grab my blankets from my bed and make myself a little nest to recline in by the fireplace “I thought so too. So tell me, how did you all survive the fall?”

I already knew the answer, but I was eager to hear his thoughts of the encounter in depth. “The Inquisitor opened a rift. We fell into the Fade and survived. We were in the Fade physically. The likes of which hadn’t been done before the Inquisitor. We found out much about how the Divine was killed, the Inquisitor was also able to recover her memories of what happened at the Conclave. I wish we could have stayed longer, if only so that I could have explored more. The others were terrified, and rightfully so as a fear demon commanded the area we landed in. It was the one that would have led the demon army for Corypheus. We defeated the nightmare, but there was a rather large demon blocking the way out. Hawke and Stroud both volunteered to stay behind and distract it while the rest of us escaped. The Inquisitor thought it was better for Hawke to stay, considering Stroud was the last person of rank for the Wardens. I doubt he survived. Even if he managed to kill the demon on his own, there would only be an endless sea of others”.

As I asked, he went into further detail, describing the things he saw including the Black City.

“It doesn’t sound like the bit of the Fade I came out of. I don’t remember much, there was too much happening at once. I remember a lot red though. Whatever area I was in may have been under the domain of a rage spirit”.

He nods, having finished his cake while I prepared his second cup of tea “That could very well be the case. The place we were in had a yellow atmosphere. But tell me, how did you manage to sneak around Adamant without being caught? I do not doubt your skill, but there were numerous mages and demons that by all means should have discovered you quickly”.

Solas:

Athras shrugs “Leliana gave me an upgraded uniform. She said it was made to ensure I wouldn’t be caught, but the overall properties of its making were unknown considering the material had been in contact with the Fade”.

I was intrigued. The Inquisitor did often find such materials on our journey. I was unaware that the Inquisition had acquired enough to create a set of armor. My curiosity must have been obvious as he pulls a gauntlet from his bag for me to inspect. I could feel the barest glimpse of the Fade from it, but other than that it seemed simply ordinary and I told him as much.

Once again he shrugs, uncaring “It is either I was completely able to avoid being spotted on my own or the armor helped. Unless of course the wardens were blinded by the binding ritual and thought themselves invincible. Given that the demons were theoretically under their control and Corypheus by proxy, perhaps they too were blinded by the arrogance of this Corypheus”. His musing turns to soft mutters as he digs the rest of the set from his bag. I watched him unbutton his coat, which didn’t leave much of his torso to the imagination. He folds it carefully and sets it on the bed before shrugging out of his pants. I felt my face heat up in embarrassment. It was far too uncommon for anyone to strip down to nearly nothing as if I wasn’t present. Thankfully he doesn’t comment on it as he puts his armor on piece by piece.

It was suddenly getting very difficult to remember he was in the room. I do my best to shield my mind, taking a few deep breathes and closing my eyes. When I opened them, Athras was nowhere to be seen, but at the very least I could remember he was here “A very dangerous set of armor you’ve managed to acquire”. I look around the room, looking for any sign of his presence.

Finding none, I was surprise to hear his voice, though it was muffled, right in front of me “What are the effects that you’ve noticed. I’ll admit I’m curious as to how it affects you. I had thought it just affected myself, but clearly it has influence on those around me”.

I nod, uneasy that I couldn’t see him to know where to direct my speech “When you first put it on, I found it difficult to remember you were even in the room. I took a moment to protect my mind. When I opened my eyes again, you were nowhere to be seen. It seems that if someone were to spot you, they would forget, but that seems to be a failsafe considering you cannot be seen now. I’ve heard of a rogue’s stealth being similar to a fade cloak, but no rogue I’ve met aside from Cole has been able to disappear as well as this armor seems to allow you to. I dare say, you could only be seen if you wished it”.

He hums, the sound suspiciously contemplative. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise and the clear sight of two hands on either side of me entered my peripheral vision “Dangerous indeed” he says, the sound right next to my ear. It was difficult to not flinch against the shock. Before I could form words, he was leaning against the desk, hood and mask away “The armor seems to have some…sentient qualities to it. Enough to sense my will anyway. It is as you said. I cannot be seen unless I wish it. I’d appreciate if you could keep this between us? Leliana certainly wouldn’t approve of me having such a boon. Afterall, she doesn’t trust me”.

My eyes narrow. I really had no reason to tell the spy mistress, but why would Athras want to keep such a skill hidden away? Certainly keeping such things hidden would not promote Leliana to trust him more either “I doubt you care much for her trust if you wish to keep your skills and this newly acquired boon hidden”.

He nods “Whether she trusts me or not hardly matters so long as I still get a job here and there. I doubt she would want such armor in my hands. Would you rather it be given to another? Someone who you don’t know and could therefore use it to watch your every move?”

I didn’t appreciate him playing on my fear of discovery. Leliana is still suspicious of me and rightfully so. I’ve had to keep my notes in the rotunda muted in their true knowledge. Either she or someone she ordered to has gone through my notes a time or two. Bull was right about one thing it seems, manipulative. “How do I know you won’t do the same under her orders?”

He looks vaguely insulted “You’re my friend **_Solas_**. She might have gold, but at the end of the day I’m a dime a dozen. If she so much as thinks I might betray her or the Inquisition, I’d be on the run with other assassins not far behind. So far, I’ve given you no reason to doubt me. It wasn’t the Inquisitor who dropped everything to help you save your friend, it was me. I took a beating from Arcane Horrors for it. But that didn’t matter to me because I felt that helping you was more important than any sort of punishment that Leliana could dish out”.

For a moment, I cast my eyes down. He wasn’t wrong and because he pointed out a fear, I questioned his motives. With I sigh, I meet his gaze “Ir abelas lethalin. It’s been so long since I could trust someone”.

He sighs equally “I know”.

I give him a slight smile “I’ll work on it. And I see no need to tell Leliana of any conversation between us”.

He gives a grateful smile “ ** _My thanks_** , it’s nice to have someone I can trust in this madness”.

If only he knew, would he be so willing then? From little I knew of him, it seemed as though he would not care. But it was unwise to trust him with such information with no foci and Corypheus still a problem. With the way he regarded humans, his support of my goals would not be surprising. He walks back over to his pile of clothes, stripping himself of armor. I took a moment more to observe him. The markings on his face had long since been washed away. Silver no longer accented his other markings, but they suited him. He looked far more attractive without those false slave markings marring his face. He had a few scars, most of them recent along his back. There were a few scant white lines here and there. Old wounds healed with time and not magic. He was beautiful in the way that ancient warriors were, full of pride. He steps back into his pants, not bothering with his coat “I wonder if Leliana will be sending me to the Winter Palace”.

I raise an eyebrow “Why would she send an assassin? Last I recall, our need of an invitation was to prevent one”.

His grin is knowing “I couldn’t think of a better place for me to be. Keeping everything quiet. The Orlesians wouldn’t know anything was amiss. If not to kill an assassin, perhaps just to find glorious blackmail for our spymaster to use in twisting a few arms into compliance”.

Seeing the bright glimmer in his eye at the thought I chuckle “It seems you are in need of other activities. Your mind seems to default to plots of murder and subterfuge”.

He huffs crossing his arms over his chest “I don’t always plot the demise of others. I help in the sick bay when I can. I’ve recently picked up reading with our resident Tevinter Mage. Crass as he is, he’s proven to be decent company. Oh, I taught one of the other ravens how to fire a bow properly. Little thing wasn’t even pulling it back far enough”.

I take a drink of the silver needle “So you’re a healer now are you? A researcher and teacher even”.

I say this in jest and Athras sticks his tongue out in a childish display that should be forbidden “Not a healer. I suppose I’m more like Cole that way. The ones that will recover will never see me. The ones dying and dead will be given some dignity. Vivienne thought she’d stir up trouble with me while I was there. She felt confident enough to instigate a confrontation with her staff”.

He takes a drink from his own cup, leaning with his back to the desk as I inquire “And did she succeed?”

Athras laughs “I hardly acknowledged her. She said I was wasting my time on the dead. I told her I’d remember that when she dies. Her death will be undignified and worthy of her if I have any say in it”.

I smile “Yours is certainly a spirit of vengeance”.

He turns leaning over the desk on his forearms. A highly compromising position if one’s mind had enough imagination. “The Solas I’ve seen experiences his enjoyment mostly in dreams. He would much rather sleep and see the ancient memories of the lands around him than share a conversation. If he cannot sleep and has a mind of muse, he paints the walls of his sacred space. He had staked his claim on it with the first brush stroke. Occasionally, you’ll find him searching through books and sifting through notes. This is work for the Inquisition, but he could be doing worse things. These are just at your surface. Deeper we find things such as your dislike for tea, which I have remedied to most tea. Getting to know you is like unwrapping a gift, only each layer removed only reveals yet another”.

I feel a heat in my ears at his words; they were thick with honey and yet there was not a lie in a single one. Two could play this game “Athras is a creature of vengeance. He prefers the company of spirits to people but is more than willing to make conversation with those he finds interesting. He enjoys his work, some might say too much, but his respect for the dead and dying is far more reaching than it is for the living. Evidently, he drinks more than tea and reads books more for enjoyment than research. If he sees another struggling to learn something he knows, he just might show them mercy and teach them. And of course he absolutely hates entitled nobles who talk down to him”.

He grins, the glint of teeth looking sharper than they have any right to be “Picking me apart already. Shows you listen. For all that people have ears, most hear nothing with them”.

I indulge in his insight “They only hear that which reaffirms their own beliefs”.

He hums in agreement “On that note, I should let you get to your dreams”.

The need for sleep became noticeable as he speaks “Yes, thank you. For the company and chance to be away from the noise”.

He shrugs “Your thanks, while appreciated is unnecessary. My intentions were entirely selfish”. On that note, I retreat to my own quarters across the hall.


	11. Desire of good company

Solas:

The blend of tea given did little to prevent me from entering the Fade. Dreaming was much different than being physically in it. Arguably less dangerous when one is dreaming, but there still posed the danger of wayward spirits looking to beguile.

I wondered some distance from Skyhold, speaking to a few spirits, observing memories imbedded into the Fade. There was the sound of distant music. The sound reverberated from the plucking of strings. It sounded warmer than a lute and could reach lower notes. I followed the sound to find Athras. Of course he would be the source of something unique in the Fade. There was a spirit, tinged in pink and green, listening intently.

The tune changed slightly as Athras put words to the music “Wise men say, "Only fools rush in". But I can't help falling in love with you. Shall I stay, would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you. Like the river flows, shortly to the sea. Darling, so we go. Some things were meant to be. Take my hand, take my whole life too. 'Cause I can't help falling in love with you”.

The spirit sighs in contentment “You sing as if you long for such things. I could help you, if you ask”.

Athras chuckles, switching to another tune “To love is to feel a pain like no other. There is a story I would share if you wished to hear it?”

The spirit hums, disappointed at being denied, but eager to learn more.

As Athras tells his tale, he continuously plays “There once was a girl. How she adored this boy who roamed the streets of her town. He was charming, many a lad and lass vied for his attention. She considered him a dear friend, brought him food while he worked, wished him well each time she saw him. One day, she realized she loved him. She dare not confess her feelings, for she knew him to be engaged. Slowly but surely, she grew ill. At first, it was a mild cough. It grew worse with each passing day, her lungs burning. As she leaves him a lunch to tide him over during his studies, she coughs once again. He is concerned, but she waves him off, hiding blood and torn rose petals in the palm of her hand. Days went by and the petals turned to full blooms. Knowing she had such little time, she decided he needed to know her feelings before she died. He grew angry, how dare she tell him such things when she knew his love was with another. Her tears stained her face. The walk home was painful, each cough tearing through her throat as she left a trail of rose blooms in her wake. She died in her bed, alone. Those that witnessed her walk had advised she be cut open. They had to know what sort of curse could cause her death. They open her chest, to find her lungs filled with roses, a single rose filling the chamber of her heart”.

The spirit was silent “And what of the boy?”

Athras sighs “He married the woman he loved. The town named this curse after her, calling it Hanahaki. A disease caught by those who suffer from unrequited love”.

The spirit is affronted “That’s horrible!”

He laughs “Then be glad that it is only a story. A cautionary tale of who you give your heart to. I’m sorry I’ve upset you”.

It huffs “You will play me another song”.

He laughs again and shifts the cords, strumming them and doing as the spirit demanded “Heart beats fast, colors and promises. How to be brave. How can I love when I'm afraid to fall? But watching you stand alone. All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow. One step closer. I have died everyday waiting for you. Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more. Time stands still. Beauty in all she is. I will be brave. I will not let anything, take away. What's standing in front of me. Every breath, every hour has come to this. One step closer. I have died everyday waiting for you. Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more. And all along I believed, I would find you. Time has brought your heart to me. I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more”.

The spirit sighs and fades out of existence. I believed it to be a spirit of love, a rare sight to see in the Fade. He wipes away at his eyes, the shimmer to say that there were tears left to shed. Whether it was the song itself, or perhaps the memory it invokes I could not say.

A black wolf, eerily familiar to what I had seen in his dreams pads forward. From this distance, I could see it wasn’t completely black, it had light brown between its toes, dusting the back of its forelimbs and the front of its hindlimbs. He regarded the creature with narrowed eyes “If you wished to make a deal with me, you chose a poor form for it. Change quickly before I decide to kill you where you stand”.

I debated as to whether or not to show myself. Athras did not seem to realize I was present. If he did, he hadn’t acknowledged my existence. I watched what I believed to be a memory speak “Hm. Why? Am I not a reflection of what you desire most at this moment?”

Athras growls, the sound rumbling in his chest as it did in the Exalted Plains “You are doing yourself no favors wearing her skin. She is gone, there are no sweet promises you could make. Whatever would come of such a deal would never be her. I am not foolish. Either change your skin and be forthright in your intentions or die”.

It laughs “I very much doubt you would kill me in this skin.”

In a surge of speed, Athras has a blade materialized from the energy around him imbedded into what became obviously a spirit of desire. The energy itself dissipates into a purple mist. The action left Athras entirely drained. I chose that moment to approach. “Thank you for allowing me to deal with that beast” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I sit down, shifting the plane into a den with two chairs before a fire “You knew I was present then?”

He nods, pulling himself off the ground and into the other chair “I suspected you arrived when I was singing songs for that spirit. You tend to follow the sound of things that are different. Such as when you found me sparring with rage demons. Yes, I knew you were watching, I caught you out of the corner of my eye when I had one in a head lock”.

He closes his eyes and drapes his legs over the side of the chair. I ask, “Would you be offended if I asked why a spirit of desire chose that form to ensnare you? Usually they choose to take the shape of attractive men and women, or even children if they’re trying to be innocent”.

He doesn’t bother to open his eyes “No, though you’ve already asked. He took the form of one of my greatest friends. Not a person like I may have described her in my retelling of my dreams. I loved her dearly as she adored me unconditionally. It was only months ago since I lost her. For that lowly creature to wear her skin, her face. It knew that I want nothing more to have her by my side again. I know this cannot be. She deserves her rest and whatever it was planning to offer would be more likely to tear my throat out in my sleep than love me as she did”. His pain was evident on his features and I found myself at a loss.

I could form no words of comfort and past experience told me to tread lightly with sympathetic phrases “The memory you shared of her was beautiful. Indeed, the way you told it I hadn’t suspected her to be a wolf. Would seeing another memory of her be too painful for you to share?”

He hums “Painful yes, but perhaps it would be cathartic to share her with someone”. The world around us shifts. Surrounded in an endless winter, Athras gestures to the small hut in the distance. Past Athras has his hair braided, albeit it was shorter than the current version of him wore it. He stands out in the snow smiling as his friend chases a rabbit around the snow. She fumbled as the creature turns and Athras laughs. He takes pity on his friend and goes out to help her chase down the creature. Between the two of them the rabbit is quickly cornered and killed. He laughs as she prances in the snow, so proud of her kill. “Come on then”. They go to the little hut and the she-wolf sits outside “Come on, it’s too cold to be waiting for you”. She sits in the snow, drops the rabbit and barks. Athras whines “Kiiiibaa it’s freezing out here. You’ve got plenty of fur, I don’t”.

She relents and brings the rabbit inside, much to his relief. I raise an eyebrow “Her name isn’t elvhen?” Athras shrugs “I had a few names in mind when I got her. Kiba just suited her better”.

The memory shifts around and its sometime later. Athras wears his long braid, laying on the floor next to the fireplace. Kiba’s muzzle had since turned gray with age and was curled up next to him, head tucked under his chin as he ran his fingers through her fur. I look to Athras, whose eyes shimmer in the glow of the memory. “This was the last night we spent together. She lived much longer than I could have hoped, but she could barely walk towards the end. I’d only leave her side to hunt”.

I turn back to the scene before me. She whines, the sound that could only be described as heartbreaking. The Athras in this memory wasn’t holding back his tears as he shushed her “Sh. I know my girl. You can go. You don’t have to stay anymore”. She turned her head enough to lick away his tears. The memory fades back to the fireplace and chairs from before “We fell asleep like that, only she didn’t wake up”.

There were no others around in his memories “And then you were alone. You weren’t really a recluse, were you?”

Athras laughs “Not at first no. Friends came and went. Being little more than a glorified grave digger, my work was off putting to most. I decided the company of spirits and animals was better. They didn’t care how I made a living. I found her and she became my best and later on my only friend. It hurts no less today and it did that very morning, but I manage to endure each day without her there to wake me up at dawn demanding food. Our relationship wasn’t so complex, she didn’t discuss philosophy or share memories, but she was mine. I had one person try to tell me to move on, she was just an animal”.

His fist clenched in anger. I thought back to the Exalted Plains “Did this person survive the encounter” I asked, knowing that I too had sought revenge against those that killed my friend. This was different as there was no one that had caused Kiba’s death, but knowing Athras as I do, I would not put it past him to retaliate with violence.

He slowly unclenched his fist with a sigh “He did, not entirely unscathed. I beat the shit out of him. Every punch full of the pain I felt”. He looks down at his hands.

I follow his gaze to find familiar white scars dusting across his knuckles “It appears you didn’t leave that encounter unscathed either”.

He laughs, rubbing the scars idly “By the time someone pulled me off him, I could see the bones of my knuckles. He could have died and yet I felt no better for it”.

There is silence in the air is heavy with tension. Athras put a significant amount of trust in me, far more than I had in him “If you’re up to it, there is one place I’d like to show you”.

He raises an eyebrow “So long as you aren’t planning on tossing my miserable ass into a ditch somewhere”.

A grim remark, I couldn’t contain the snort of amusement “Hardly. I do not think it would be wise to throw away a friend like you lethallin. Come”. I reach out to help him up.

He was more than likely fully capable of getting up on his own, but after everything that’s happened he looked rather drained. He takes the offered arm and hoists himself up “You seem much better with touching in the Fade” he remarked. I didn’t dignify that with a response; and he didn’t press for one. With some walking and manipulation of the Fade around us, I brought him to the place where Wisdom dwelled the most. As expected, it was empty. At least the energy was building steadily. He tilts his head to the side “Something is trying to be here, but it’s not ready yet”.

I nod “Spirits do not die the same way we do. Their energy returns to the fade and if given enough new memories, it may reform”.

He nods “It wouldn’t be the same though would it. The memories that once created it are no longer here for it to see”.

I was surprised with his observation. Accurate as it was, it wasn’t knowledge I’d expect a rogue to have “You are correct. Whatever spirit should form from its energy. It likely wouldn’t remember me. This is where I was before I returned to camp. I realize you never asked, but I find that I do not mind telling you of my whereabouts”.

He hums, walking around the space for a moment “What was your friend like? I know it was generally peaceful, enjoyed discussing philosophy and perhaps history. What else led you to befriending it?”

It is easy for memories rise to the forefront of my mind “She would take on the form of a human often times, but she spoke in the ancient dialect of elvhen. I know you speak some words, though I imagine you’re more fluent than I give you credit for. She was a refreshing balm to soothe my anger when I discovered the Dalish perversion of our history. No one that I spoke to could speak more than a few words and the rest was but a warped version of the language I had grown to love. I could not correct them; their pride would hear nothing of it. We would often debate when we encountered one another, though our meetings seemed so far and few in between. Even among sprits, she was one of my closest”.

He smiles “I have to admire anyone that can tamper down your temper. I’m glad I have managed to avoid being subject to it for the most part”. His image began to shiver slightly “ ** _Thank you for showing me this. I know it isn’t easy for you to disclose such things. You are right though. I am certainly more fluent_** ”. It was with a full sentence in the ancient dialect that his form disappeared, awake.

Numerous times he's shown an independence in the Fade. He could pull himself away as he would with any slumber. Most that ventured with this much control of their dreams, or one’s who are pulled into the dreams of others need help. The Inquisitor was one such person. I pulled her into Haven, and we spoke. She seemed so much different now. She hardly came to speak with me these days and continued to make decisions that went against my own principals. Ellana was making it so easy to return to an indifferent advisor of the Fade. The ill-considered kiss all but forgotten. No the bearer of my mark did little to hold my interest these days. Still, I was not without friends. There was Cole, the spirit of compassion that Ellana reluctantly allowed to stay and the new addition of Athras into that circle. The only being of flesh and blood to hold that title in this time. I was pulled out of the Fade by loud thumps and general sounds of violence. Getting out of bed, I listen for more.

There is a voice, heavy in its Orlesian accent “Are you quite finished?”

Athras must have been some distance from the door as his voice was muffled, but still audible “You nearly met your maker at the end of my blade. You’re lucky I didn’t make a habit of stabbing first, ask questions later. What do you want?”

She gets straight to the point “I have been in contact with the House Pavus out of Qarinus. I’ve seen you with him in the library. You two are close are you not?”

His voice is closer to the door and easier to hear “You’re dislike of him is clear on your face Chantry Mother. I would consider us friends, yes. What of it?”

Her response is strange to me to say the least “I was only wondering if you were familiar with his situation. The family has sent a letter describing an estrangement from their son and they have pleaded for my aid. I am in no position to do so, but you seem to hold his ear. They’ve asked to arrange a meeting, quietly without telling him. They fear it’s the only way he’ll come”.

Athras scoffs “So you expect me to deceive one of my only friends in this place? Bold of you to assume. What is this meeting of yours worth to you?”

I was aghast, it sounded as though Athras was planning betraying Dorian’s trust. There is the sound of muffled metal meeting a table “Given your employ with the spy mistress, I assumed you would be willing to take gold”.

The metal shifts around “And this letter? May I see it? I’d like to know what to expect if I am to convince Dorian to come along with me”.

I assumed to chantry mother handed the letter over as she spoke “I am glad that we have come to an understanding. It would be best for you to remain in his company should his family have poor intentions”.

The door open and shuts, steps being heard down the hall. I’ll admit I was angry on Dorian’s behalf and feared that I had made a mistake. Then, I heard a scoff “I must come off as a downright snake for her to believe I’d actually do this for a bit of gold. Time to see Dorian fly into a fit of rage I suppose. The Inquisitor must not be on the greatest terms with him if this little quest fell into my lap”.

A quest? Surely escorting Dorian to an unwanted family meeting doesn’t constitute a title such as a quest. I was relieved to hear his words, but I wanted additional reassurance. Once I heard his departure from his room and down the hall. I made my way to the rotunda. If Dorian was to be as angry as Athras expects, it would be easy to hear their conversation from there. I was only a few minutes behind, though I had missed the initial words of greeting. Theres shuffling above “No one’s been up here besides myself all morning. Why the secrecy Athras? You’re not planning on ravishing me against these bookshelves are you?”

Athras snorts “No. Frankly what I’m about to show you is going to piss you off. I just hope you won’t be directing that at me. Mother Giselle has been speaking with your family. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know that answer. She’s received a letter asking for her help. It is better if you read it yourself”.

There is a few moments of silence as Dorian reads through whatever was sent. It doesn’t take him long to start ranting “I know my son. What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble. This is so typical. I’m willing to bet this retainer is a henchman, hired to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter”.

“He’d be dead if he tried. I would hardly let someone drag away one of the only tolerable people in this organization” Athras soothes, though his voice wasn’t toned that way.

“He expects me to travel with Mother Giselle, although maker knows why he’d think I would”.

There’s the sound of a gold-filled bag hitting a table “Mother Giselle expects me to escort you. I must come off a right bastard since she believed I’d bring you without telling you any of this in exchange for a bit of gold. You can keep it, even touching it makes me feel dirty. And not in a good way”.

There is silence for a moment “You were being paid to bring me to this meeting, but under the guise of not actually telling me what this meeting was about?”

Athras sighs “I am not being paid; the gold is yours. I may have played this off to her that I’m not above such things. Clearly, I was believable. I would hope this isn’t some Venatori plot. I am unsure if your father would join the likes of them”.

Dorian’s anger simmers “I am glad then, at least that you wouldn’t sell me out. As for my father, under normal circumstances, I would say that is an impossibility. But now, well anything is possible”. There’s shuffling of papers before Dorian speaks again “Let’s go. Let’s meet this so-called family retainer. If it’s a trap, we escape and kill everyone. You’re good at that. If it’s not. I send that man back to my father with the message he can stick his alarm in his wits end”.

Athras hummed “Suppose you and your family share a bit of bad blood between you”.

Dorian laughs “An interesting turn of phrase. They do not care for my choices, nor I theirs”.

I hear a sigh “If Leliana hasn’t heard us, I’ll need to tell her of this arrangement. Last time I helped a friend and didn’t tell her, I got stuck clearing the Ramparts of undead”.

Dorian must have given a nonverbal agreement “You do that. I’ll meet you at the stables”.

Dorian descends the stairs, eyes only pausing for a moment on my person before he retreated. Likely he was going to change his robes and prepare for the road. Whatever Athras was saying to Leliana went unheard as the sound of ravens on top of the distance made it almost impossible to eavesdrop. He descends the stairs, winking as my eyes connect with his. He disappears around the corner, likely going to do the same as Dorian. It seems that he was going to be gone for a few days, perhaps a week at most depending on where the meeting was and how fast he could travel with Dorian with him.

Athras p.o.v

It took me all of five minutes to change into my usual set of armor and pack up some things for the road. Dorian was waiting in a set of battle-ready robes and a lovely purple staff on his back. If Dorian didn’t complain about riding, we could make it to the Hinterlands in a day. The horses would need a few breaks, but if we didn’t sleep a full night on the road it was possible. Knowing Dorian, he wasn’t exactly eager to get there. We traveled in companionable silence for a while, getting out of the snow and mountains within a few hours. Only then did Dorian speak “Where’s your little feathered friend?”

I shrug “No clue. I must have spooked him when I nearly tore my room apart. Mother Giselle just wondered on in while I was sleeping. She was nearly eviscerated. Didn’t even flinch that woman.”

He laughs “I can see it now. Glad that I haven’t been at the end of your blade just yet”.

Well outside of Skyhold’s ears, I ask him the question I’ve been dying to know “So where exactly do you draw the line for blood magic? You willingly made a necklace that alters the body of another. By all means I’m glad to have it, but I wonder where you stand on the subject. It isn’t considered taboo in Tevinter is it?”

His shoulders sagged “I wouldn’t have done it for a complete stranger, or even myself for that matter. Given your general attitude, I assumed you would appreciate such an item. It was a gamble at best. That is the limits on my use of it. I know enough to make sure I know how to avoid its influence. Can’t say I’m particularly fond of blood magic. Once upon a time I would have told you I hated it. But I could see where it would have its uses in someone like you”.

I raised an eyebrow “So you hardly practice it and consider it to be in poor taste. Except when you come across exceptional creatures such as myself?”

He shakes his head, mostly in exasperation “That’s one way of putting it I suppose. I’m sure I can trust that you won’t tell anyone. Especially now considering the developing hunt here in the South against anyone who would use it”.

I roll my eyes “I lied and took the money of a Chantry Mother for you. Of course I’ll keep your secrets. You’ve kept mine so far, not that I’m really hiding anything”.

He nods, and decides to turn the conversation to something arguably lighter “So, have you found any particular ladies or gents of interest with the Inquisition?”

I laugh “Not just so. There’s you of course, but I’m sure I wouldn’t suite your interests enough without that lovely little chain. I’m afraid I’ve given myself quite the project in Solas though”.

He chuckles “I wouldn’t lead you on like that darling. But I suppose given enough wine we could end up in bed together. And the grim socially inept elf who doesn’t respect Dalish customs? I didn’t think he could be anyone’s type”.

I chuckle in kind “Oh believe me, there are plenty that would love to get into his breeches. I’ve left him no room to be an anti-social twat. It’s like taming down a wolf really”.

He snorts “I can see what you mean by a project. He’s probably more high maintenance than me”.

I scoff “I doubt anyone could match you. He isn’t quick to trust, but I figure once I have that. He’ll be all mine”.

He rolls his eyes “Whatever you say darling. I suppose I can see some appeal to his brooding self. I’d be careful though, last I recalled the Inquisitor had her eye on him, though I doubt he noticed”.

The terrain was beginning to look familiar. There was a large lake not too far in the distance “What about you Dorian? Anyone in the Inquisition catching your eye? Bull perhaps? You two flirt often enough”.

He chuckles nervously “Nothing outside a bit of fun I assure you. He’s a spy for the Qun first and foremost. Can’t trust him as far as I can throw him”.

I grin “Better in the long run. Everyone knows your heart can’t break if you don’t catch feelings.”

He laughs “Catch feelings? You speak as if they are a disease”.

I nod “A lot of times they are. Life would be easier sometimes without them. Course I’d never wish Tranquility on anyone, accept maybe Vivienne, but she’s a right bitch anyway”.

He snorts, slowing his horse down as we find some stable ground “It’s getting dark and I won’t be rushing into this so-called meeting. We should make camp soon”. I nod, seeing no reason to disagree. A little further and we find an excellent spot to make camp.

It was all too easy to delegate tasks. By the time I returned with a few rabbits, Dorian had the fire well established with enough fuel to last the night and part of the morning. With a satchel of spices, the rabbit tasted much better than it would have otherwise. “Where are you from? It seems that you’ve avoided such a question for a long time. Your attitude simply doesn’t compare to any of the other Dalish I’ve met in my time with the Inquisition”.

The question was avoided with reason. There were no ties I had here and not nearly enough knowledge as I’d need to describe a place if I named it. “Far from here. Can’t say I really know what it was called. After a while, I only really paid attention to the change in terrain. It’s only since joining the Inquisition that I’ve started using names”.

He nods, accepting the answer “I suppose I should have expected that, I imagine you wouldn’t have given us your name if we didn’t ask for it. It’s hard to believe that an elf wouldn’t despise someone like me on principal”.

I roll my eyes “Slavery is everywhere. It’d be exhausting to hate all the people of all the world. I’m reserving that energy for people like Vivienne. At least you’re smart enough not to assume everyone with pointed ears is a slave to your requests”.

Moments of silence indicate he doesn’t quite know how or if he should respond to that. With water from the lake, tea is easily made and enjoyed between the two of us. I look up to the sky, noticing how different the stars were here. Still, they danced which brought a small amount of comfort. The rest of the night was filled with silence, the sounds of distant howls, the crackling of the fire, and the wind through the trees the only thing to break it up. Dorian set up a few runes around camp that would utterly destroy those entering camp with malicious intent and saved us the trouble of sleeping on alternate shifts. I would have slept either way as I had little fear of what goes bump in the night.

Morning came and went with us reaching Redcliffe by mid-afternoon. We moved about the little town slowly, not in any real rush to meet the retainer, which I knew to be his father. I would conceivably have no way of knowing this normally and would not tell him otherwise. I noticed the familiar elf with a sad look on his face while Dorian was speaking with one of the merchants, I approached. “Forgive the intrusion, but I couldn’t help but notice your misery”.

He gives a self-deprecating chuckle “You’re either the first to notice or the first to care. It hardly matters. With the everything that’s going on, it just isn’t safe to bring my dear Senna her flowers”.

I sit down next to him “It’s a shame you’ll have to put up with me then. Who is Senna?”

He smiles, the expression sad and longing “She was my wife. Every year I take flowers to her shrine, but alas the demons and brigands stop me from doing so”.

I look to Dorian momentarily to see he is now waiting on me. Turning my attention back to the widower, I speak “I can take the flower to her if you like”.

There is relief “I…thank you. My Senna would be grateful. Her shrine lies on a hill to the west, near the table stones”.

I take the flowers from him and join Dorian in walking to the tavern. “You’ll ruin your roguish reputation at this rate” he teases.

I lightly bump into his shoulder “You don’t see me helping everyone with my poor bleeding heart. I think my reputation will manage, especially if we have to escape and kill everyone”.

His expression turns grim “Well, let’s get this over with”. Stepping inside, the building is as empty as I expected it to be. Dorian’s confidence isn’t reassured by this “Uh oh, nobody’s here. This doesn’t bode well”.

Like a ghost, Dorian’s father steps from the shadows “Dorian”.

I stand a step behind him, ready for any changes the encounter might have. “Father” he greets tersely, none too pleased to have been tricked. “So the whole story about a “family retainer” was just…what? A smokescreen?”

His father didn’t look too surprise “Then you were told. I apologize for the deception stranger. I never intended for you to be involved”.

I scoff “Of course not, but better me than the Inquisitor I suppose”.

Dorian springs off my words “Indeed. Magister Pavus couldn’t come to Skyhold and be seen with the dread Inquisitor. What would people think? What is this exactly father? Ambush? Kidnapping? Warm family reunion?”

His father gives an exasperated sigh “This is how it has always been”.

I cross my arms “You went through a lot of trouble to get Dorian here. Start talking. There is no sense in making excuses now”.

Dorian responds in kind with more anger “Yes father. Talk to me. Let me hear how mystified you are by my anger”.

His father calmly tries to pacify the situation “Dorian, there’s no need to…”.

Dorian is quick to interrupt “I prefer the company of men. My father disapproves”.

I arch an eyebrow “This is hardly news Dorian”.

He sneers “And why should it be? Why should anyone care? I have no idea”.

His father loses some patience “This display is uncalled for”.

Dorian turns his sights on his perceived enemy “No, it is called for. You called for it by luring me here”.

His father responds in kind “This is not what I wanted”.

The very phrase struck a cord with Dorian “I’m never what you wanted, father, or have you forgotten”.

Considering I ask no questions, it goes straight into Dorian’s father pleading “Dorian please. If you’ll only listen to me”.

Dorian is having none of it “Why? So you can spout more convenient lies? He taught me to hate blood magic. “The last resort to a weak mind”. Those were his words. But what was the first thing you did when your precious heir refused to play pretend for the rest of his life? You tried to change me!”

Once again his father pleads “I only wanted what was best for you!”

Dorian argues “You wanted the best for you! For your fucking legacy! Anything for that!” He steps away in his rage, bracing himself on a nearby table.

I follow, a steady support “You can leave if that’s what you really want. I’d protect your back. Or you can stay and listen to his words. You might never forgive yourself if these are the last words you share with him. I’ll leave that choice to you”.

He sighs and charges back towards his father as if it was a battle “Tell me why you came”.

His father responds “If I knew I would drive you to the Inquisition…”

I internally wince. Dorian growls, “You didn’t. I joined the Inquisition because it was the right thing to do. Once I had a father who would have known that”.

He turns to leave for the door, and I follow slowly behind as the magister looks resigned. “Once I had a son who trusted me. A trust I betrayed. I only wanted to talk to him. To hear his voice again. To ask him to forgive me”.

There’s a thoughtful look in Dorian’s gaze. I shrug and incline my head towards the magister. I stand by the door, not willing to leave him completely alone as the quest might suggest. They adjourn to a room upstairs and speak. It was only over a few hours and Dorian looked both lighter and conflicted.

We left Redcliffe, heading towards the shrine for me to do as the widower asked. It was all too easy to cut my palm and coat the stems in blood. Dorian said nothing, standing off the side as I wrapped my palm in a cloth.

Too quickly we were back on the road, Dorian having far too much to think about to engage in conversation. I was content with that and we rode throughout the night, eager to return to Skyhold. The horses were rested when necessary and we ultimately made it back in the late afternoon of the next day.

I had a quick bath to get the grime from the road away, blissfully alone. Knowing there was more dialogue to exchange, I returned to the library in fresh tunic and trousers. Dorian looks wistfully out the window “He says we’re alike. Too much pride. Once I would have been overjoyed to hear him say that. Now I’m not certain. I don’t know if I can forgive him”.

I shrug “You do not owe him your forgiveness. I hope that he actually gave you an apology. Asking for forgiveness is different than actually regretting your actions enough to apologize”.

He nods “He did, once we were in a private he had little qualms about saying it. With you present, he had to save face”.

I ask the all-important question “Are you alright?”

He looks back out the window “No. Not really. Thank you for bringing me out there. It wasn’t what I expected. But…it’s something. Maker knows what you must think of me now, after that whole display”.

I roll my eyes “You’re a brave man Dorian”.

He scoffs “Brave?”

I nudge his shoulder “Breaking tradition and walking your own path isn’t an easy feat. There are plenty of others who would have come to heel under a man like your father. You, on the other hand fought and broke free from whatever chains he could have placed on you”.

He smiles thoughtfully “At any rate, time to drink myself into a stupor. It’s been that sort of day. Join me sometime, if you’ve a mind”.

I shrug “I’ve been meaning to crack open the bottle of Hissing Drake. Your place or mine?”

He laughs, “I think you would prefer my appointments. Being a member of the Inquisitor’s inner circle certainly has its perks”.

I shrug, nonchalant about the whole ordeal of getting absolutely shitfaced “Am I to be given directions or are you planning on escorting me once I get my poison of choice?”

We ended up walking to my room together, talking of nonsense as I rummaged around my things to find the small satchel that still held my two bottles of alcohol. His rooms were on the upper levels, more lavish than my own. Equipped with a large bed, fireplace and even a personal washroom. There were no chairs by the fireplace, but a fur blanket suited us just fine as we poured the first of the drinks. Dorian had first attempted to start with wine. To me, that contradicted his goal and there wasn’t really a way to measure how drunk one could get from it. He conceded and we started with tumblers of Hissing Drake. It burned harshly going down but left a pleasant numbness behind it. I could see where its name came from as a hiss escaped my lips. Dorian mimics the noise with his own gulp “You’d almost need to be a masochist to enjoy this” he jokes.

I snort “If you want to drink yourself into a stupor, this is the fastest way to do it. Consider yourself privileged; I don’t get drunk with just anyone”. With that, I slam back the rest of my glass. The heat rises in my throat and for a moment I thought if I exhaled I would truly breathe fire.

“You’ve bestowed me with such an honor! I suppose I’ll just have to keep up then?” He knocks back his own glass with a hiss and a grimace.

Round after round it went until I noticed he was well and truly sloshed, the threat of tears on his eyes, of course Dorian is a sad sentimental drunk “I barely even know you and you’ve managed to get my father and I talking again. I can’t decide if I should hate you for it or not” he mumbles, carefully sipping away at the latest glass.

I shuffle myself around to sit behind him. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I bring him to lean back against my chest “Hate me all you like, but the choice was always yours. I’d have killed him for you if you only asked”. I nuzzle the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent in my drunken haze. The scent of ash concealed much of it, but there were undertones of vanilla and decay. Being a necromancer evidently had its effects on one’s scent in this world. It made me wonder what I smelled like.

He huffs but is quick to relax as I run my fingers through his hair. Evidently I was touchier when I was drunk. “I don’t think I will ever forgive him”.

I shrug, curling a lock around my finger “Then don’t, he was gonna do a shitty thing that might not have even worked. You could have ended up a vegetable. Takes a hell of a lot more than an “I’m sorry” to even begin to make up for what he was going to do. He’s lucky he hadn’t been able to go through with it”.

He sighs “I suppose I shouldn’t expect you of all people to convince me of forgiveness”.

I tug on his hair slightly “I’m not a good person Dorian. I could hardly tell you that you should forgive him when I would have killed him if I was in your fashionable boots”.

He leans back with a hum “Maybe not a good person, but you’re a good friend at least. We’ve gotten through the sickeningly sweet talk, which means I’m not drunk enough. Pour me another glass would you?” I lean forward and grab the bottle that was not too far from his leg. I nip at his neck on a whim as I pour him another glass. He shivers and nearly drops his glass “Careful darling”.

I pour myself another glass, taking sips and adamantly slowing down. Anymore we might just be drunk enough for an awkward morning. “Couldn’t help myself with having such a handsome man in my lap. I’ll leave the biting to Bull then. I won’t deliver you to him tonight though. Can’t have you this drunk and willing to spill your secrets”.

He huffs and laugh and takes a languid drink, likely not noticing the burn this deep in the cups “You’re the only one that gets to know my secrets”.

We fall into a peaceful silence; the sounds of a crackling fire fill the space with ease. We top off our glasses a few more times and before I know it, Dorian’s breaths had evened out and he had fallen asleep. His empty glass tumbling from his grasp. I set down my own drink and barely managed to get Dorian into his bed without falling or waking him up. Damnit. I took off his boots and pulled the covers over him. We managed to get through the bottle of Hissing Drake and thankfully hadn’t touched the whiskey. I sigh and sneak out of his rooms.


End file.
